Fire Emblem Awakening: A Reason To Exist
by GreenCavalierOfHyrule
Summary: The hard truth of what he is and why he was made emerges to haunt him. But what will he become? Trying to set himself apart, the Einherjar Marth experiences new struggles in a future where nearly no one truly knows his pain. Can he find his own place among new friends, or are the heroes of lost ages destined to fade? Set before Chapter 11 of Awakening.
1. Prologue: Awareness

Introduction

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem and any associated official story elements, characters, items, music, etcetera are the property of Nintendo and Intelligent Systems. This is merely a written interpretation of their work, and is in no way intended for profiteering.

If you want to, you can read this detailed explanation now. Or you can go back to check this in full if you want later, if you get confused by some of my writing and find a need for some referencing. By all means, your choice. If you like the latter option, skip a couple of lines down to the Prologue.

I will give a note of appreciation to mallowboo, an artist from Deviantart. A comic of hers inspired this project, along with a picture of Ike and Marth I happened upon, not sure by whom. Suffice to say, I don't ship that pairing, but that one line in the image will be noticeable in my story.

Recommended for those who have some insight into Fire Emblem lore, including that of the newest game, Awakening. Some plot elements are maybe featured in other fan works, but rest assured I have read nearly no Fire Emblem fan fics before making this, which means any seemingly copied ideas are merely coincidental. Promise.

It will not explain everything a Fire Emblem newcomer wants to know about the series, so maybe the audience that will appreciate this is quite limited. Depending on player choices in the actual game, some characters in this story may or may not be dead. But this is my perspective used. So they all live. Or maybe not? Also, some characters can seem out of place, like if they've joined too early, or are supposed to be gone. I also interpret their pasts and their personalities in my own way. Please bear with me, this is mostly for fun. I just happen to like continuities that make sense, and blah blah-

Eh-hrm... on to the rest.

Original characters may not be very inspired, but they're still mine. Just a heads up. I think people will be able to tell who those few are, but they arrive much later.

Awakening tactician is called Robin, and is male. Default name is because of laziness... and looks are left up to the reader's imagination. He might be more central to the plot in possible follow-ups, since the player avatar's presence IS admittedly limited here.

And I haven't played all the DLC for Awakening (or finished the game...) at this time, so possible plot holes and mistakes regarding the characters from there are expected. Not to mention several regional or translational differences in FE name and country spelling (I spelt Archanea as Akaneia, for example).

This story contains some battles of a pretty violent nature, but nothing REALLY gory. Instead, it focuses more on one character, and his interactions with others, as well as a lot of personal development. At the very least, I hope you'll have a few good laughs along the way. I'm told I have quite the "glint in the eye"-humor, coming up with stuff on the spot. Though bear with me on some thick melodrama parts, as well (don't read with a heart of stone)... I might change the amount of such text based on what you guys think. Do tell if some parts feel forced! I've written most of this in less than three weeks, so... blandness could have happened in many places...

This is my first published fan work EVER, so the beginning chapters might be slow because of my lacking skill when I started. It picks up pace after chapter 2, in my opinion. I have nearly all chapters done, just need to sandwich in a few extra things and do final editing. But as written above, I might change stuff if you think it's boring or long-winded.

Last note: Please leave constructive/positive criticism, and none of the "u write so bad cuz ur mom bluh bluh hah hah". If you have to crush- err... "help" my writer dreams I would expect intelligent phrasing (FAITH IN HUMANITY I8'D ). The trolls, however, get no sympathy from me or anyone else, I hope.

Now enjoy, without further boring intro text! Phew...

Fire Emblem: Awakening: A Reason To Exist

Prologue: Awareness

"And finally, on the last strike, the Dark Dragon roared in defeat, not understanding how he was beaten by a mere mortal prince. His pride was his downfall, like so many other tyrants across history. And the world knew peace again, for a time." The man finished.

"Those are some pretty cool tales you had to share, Marth. Nice of you to take your time in the middle of this war to do so." Robin said, adjusting his seat and putting his hands on the table. Marth and he were sitting on opposite chairs in Robin's tent, discussing their adventures. The whole camp was pretty silent, and it was getting late. A clouded half-moon slowly rose in the starry sky. "Everyone is fighting desperately... against Plegia, the Risen, and what feels like everything else. We're in deep Pegasus dung." Robin jested. "Glad you're on our side, it evens the odds."

The young man in front of him nodded. His hair was a deep blue, reaching down a little bit below his ears. He wore a blue cape, which was red on the inside facing his back. Dark blue shoulder pads, a gold-lined blue tunic covering light chainmail, blue pants... he was a big fan of the color. He also wore a plain gold tiara, bestowed upon him by his sister long ago, Princess Elice.

"Likewise, Sir Robin. I could not let this situation get out of hand. As ruler of Altea, my presence is required here, lest this world-threatening crisis reach my own borders. At this rate, it very well may..." Marth said, and brought a gloved hand up to his chin. "Although, it was on the initiative of Old Hubba that I came along first... I also don't remember how I got to Talys that day, when we first met, you Shepherds and I. One moment I was in Castle Altea, and the next... I'm fighting. It does not puzzle me much, though. Gods know I've seen stranger things..."

In Robin's mind, THIS living legend among them was one of the stranger things. When the Shepherds had entered the Outrealm Gate on an island southwest of Ylisstol, the capital of the kingdom they served, they had been thrown into a strange dimension, perhaps another time. The island kingdom of Talys, long gone, stood in all its glory before them, and also strong warriors of unknown origins. Old Hubba, an absent-minded and slightly perverted old fortuneteller had asked the Prince of Ylisse, Chrom, to fight against these rogue "spirit heroes". That part only made sense after the fight, when Marth joined them. He was long dead, but his memories and battle prowess had before death been recorded on a magical card, known as an Einherjar. This card was given to the Shepherds before they left the Outrealms.

"Well, even if he's just a spirit, he's very popular in camp. Although the Einherjar do lack a certain element of... awareness. Like their minds are set in one direction. But, Chrom is just happy to have a sparring partner that can knock him down in under a minute. Hard standards, trying to beat one who looks like a young man, but has the knowledge of a full life spent." Robin thought, smirking. "He's certainly no bore, either! Even Vaike was stunned when Marth scarfed down a piece of roast venison in ten seconds, and then stood up for a mighty burp! Although that's cheating, since Marth is a... ghost, kind of..."

Suddenly, Robin felt a twinge of pity. This spirit warrior had no idea all he held dear was long buried by the sands of time. His allies, friends, family. Not that he seemed bothered, or even close to aware of such things. He was simply here, ready to fight for a new cause. Or at least, that was how it started...

At first, he had seemed cold and unreachable, like he was perpetually focused on one thing only. As the weeks went by, people talked to him, socialized and learned of his past, slowly making him show reaction and emotion. This "spirit" did not seem like just a weapon anymore.

Robin let go of the thought to tell Marth all that. He wouldn't grasp it anyway.

"Well, off to bed. You should get some rest as well, my liege."

"No need to be so formal, Robin. You're enough of a friend that I don't need you kissing my boots." Marth laughed, and walked off to his tent, whistling a strange tune.

"...Wait, does he even sleep? Wonder why Chrom let him have his own tent..." Robin thought as he himself lay down on his bunk and drifted off into dreams. They were dreadful, and when he woke next morning he was glad to get into his robes and go get breakfast as soon as possible.


	2. Ch 1: Filling mind and stomach

Chapter 1: Filling mind and stomach

"And so you say "Got something sweet for me?" and she slapped you. BWA HAH HAGH! OH HOH HOH! That slaps Gregor on knee!" A large middle aged man with a foreign accent and red hair laughed. He leaned on the hilt end of his huge sword before the breakfast table, stationed under a tree. His years as a professional mercenary had given him good strength.

"I told you, she had a bag of candy, and I love candy. No denying that. I wasn't shy, so I asked for a piece." Gaius, an orange-headed thief with a headband and a toothpick in his mouth said. On occasion the pick was swapped out for a lollipop. His teeth were white despite the high sugar consumption. "And I sure got one... Hey... HEY! STOP LAUGHING, YOU... very scary person." He added, looking at Gregor's sword. "Whatev'. I've got plenty in my cloak."

"OOOOH! One for me, too? PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE? Gaius?" A young girl with long green hair and pointed ears whined beside Gaius.

"Huh? Egh... fine, Nowi. One piece, that's all." He said, and tossed her one.

"Thad wasch shtopid." Marth pointed out, eating a sandwich, muffling his words.

"Oh yeah? Why, oh mighty lord?" Gaius said and did a silly impression of an obedient servant.

"Manaketes react strongly to sugar. I mean, VERY. Take my companion Chiki for example. She went berserk when my other friend Abel gave her a chocolate bar." Marth said with a slightly amused expression.

"Oh... um, Nowi, stay calm, oka- OH GODS! GETHEROFFMEGETHEROFFME!" Gaius screamed as Nowi jumped him and tore off his cloak, munching away at both fabric and the candy in the pockets.

"Remember, dear thief. Remember." Marth said casually, and sat down next to Prince Chrom, who looked very tired. "Good day, prince. Feeling like dark mages poisoned your sleep?"

"Ugh... yeah. So much planning... against so many foes... but I'm strong. I can ma-ma-maaaaanage..." Chrom yawned. "Even though Frederick pesters me about sleep... and Sumia... and Robin. Hell, even Nowi told me to cool off."

"So why do you not leave things to others? You and Robin work overtime planning battles. You don't seem to ask me and my fellows to lead... what did the old one call us? Einherjar... strange name, seeing as we're normal people."

"Yes. I think... eh, I said nothing important just now!" Chrom said, looking apologetic. "You, Roy, Eirika and the others... well, you are relatively new still. Even though you ARE a good commander... I'll think about it."

"...Did I ever tell you that we look very similar to me? It's uncanny. Same blue hair, similar face... like we're related. Coincidence, much?" Marth said, and lost himself in his sandwich again. "Bwike thoo pweas in uh pwodd!"

"Um... yes. You're a good pal." Chrom said, patting the Hero-King on his shoulder, uncertain of what to say. This was weird. Not just the fact that Marth ate as sloppily as a barbarian, at least among friends (which had made a few ladies in camp seeking the King's attention to turn away in disgust) but the fact that he was sort of curious about similarities between his time and Chrom's. He was supposed to be just a weapon with a hint of his old living personality, but instead, he had developed a lot since their first meeting. Like he thought he was actually there... had Hubba been wrong about their personalities?

"Chrom! Look at this. Someone left a scroll by your tent. I thought it was important, so here, have it. It's signed by... Frederick?" Robin said, walking up to Chrom and handing over the rolled-up parchment.

Just as he did, he turned and froze. The female Plegian mage, Tharja, stood looking at him, clutching her magic tome. Her dark hair and shaded, seductive priestess clothing always made him flushed. Though not as much as the fact that she stalked him. Every day. He had suspicions she watched him sleep...

"Hello, destined one. You would say it's a bright day, and many could agree. But I see only you as the guiding light through the darkness to come. Would you-"

"No time, gotta eat!" Robin said, and rushed over to sit amongst some of his other allies. Tharja simply smiled mysteriously and slipped away into the shadows of a nearby tent.

"This scroll... oh, it must be that weapons report I-?!"

Chrom opened it, and saw what he had dreaded. Frederick's motivational posters. They were back, and worse than before. The first had presented Chrom holding nothing but two symbolic items in his hands, heroically posing... naked. The text had said "Chrom wants YOU!" He had torn down every last one, and the only ones who had seen it was his sister Lissa, who had laughed herself into a cramp, and Sumia, his Pegasus knight friend. She fainted immediately, with a fever blush. This new one was no better...

"GUGH! AGH! HOW... FRED!" He roared. "Have you-?!"

"Yes sir. All tents are waiting to be decorated with your inspiring visage." Frederick said, drinking a cup of coffee. The sun glinted off his large blue-white armor. His face was completely serious... just like his haircut. "I simply need my nourishment, and they will be up in no time!"

"GACK!" Chrom let out. His chin fell far at the confirmation.

Chrom's face turned scarlet with ridicule. He rushed off to gather them up, and burn them. Frederick let out an unheard snicker.

"Let me see... Oh ho! What an inspiring visage indeed! I must say, Frederick, you quite hit the spot on how to draw his nose!" Virion, the womanizing noble archer said. His hair was silvery, but his features were relatively young, and he wore a cravat around his neck. Those not born to a noble house called it a tissue, to his great frustration. Chrom returned at an inhuman speed to gather the scroll he had first found, but forgotten in the rush. He pointed threateningly at Virion, and then stormed off again.

"Never a dull moment..." Marth sighed. "Hey, Gaius, nice cloak. It's a lot more airy now!"

Gaius didn't think much of Marth after that. Especially after he whispered in Nowi's ear that Gaius hid sugar in the pockets of his pants.


	3. Ch 2: Risen to the occasion

Chapter 2: Risen to the occasion

"Oh boy... look at those things. Undead, rotting soldiers of death... and we just stand here?" Ricken said.

The short young mage with red hair was in doubt. He and a few others were to stand in one spot on the battlefield until the enemy came close. His pointed hat was blown off by a sudden gust of wind. He bent down to pick it up, and when it was back on his head, he stared into the eyes of a Risen. It's moldy face and red eyes scared him silly. When he looked behind him, his allies were beset on all sides. The ambush they planned had been countered. He gathered his wits, and quickly used his wind magic to send a few Risen flying, dodging the axe of the one that had scared him. An arrow grazed his thigh soon after, and he clutched the wound, unprepared to counter the strike of an undead Pegasus knight swooping in from above. He would be forever grateful of the assistance a certain young noble provided, taking the brunt of the damage for him and slashing the knight out of her saddle.

"Roy! Are you okay? Maribelle is around here, she should fix you up!" Ricken said, worried about the large glowing gash in Roy's side.

"Ungh... later. I am the son of an excellent swordsman. I can take it. Stay safe, I must aid the others. See you at dinner, buddy. Let's whoop some backside!" He said, letting his youthful will shine through. This image of Marquess Roy of Pherae was no older than 16. Ricken felt like he wanted to be just what Roy had been in life. Strong for his age, and not treated like the kid he still resembled physically.

"Ricken! Come on, we's gots Risen all over the dang place! Fight beside me!" Donnel, the young farmhand-turned-Shepherd yelled. He wore a distinct tin cooking pot for a helmet over his curly-haired head. He was also a bit weak, but eager to prove himself, fighting with what he could... even a small wooden log. "This 'ere batterin' ram oughta crack a few skulls!" He smiled confidently once Ricken had joined his side. The battle was evening out, and with Maribelle, the healing troubadour's help they soon pushed the enemy ranks down to the strongest still standing... the Chiefs. Huge brutes with sewn-together faces and fearsome axes. A perfect target for swordsmen like Roy.

"All right, coming through, 'scuse me. Hey, Marth! Nice you could make it. What say you to bringing down this thing together?" Roy said excitedly as he pushed himself out of the small crowd of allies ready for an assault.

"Well met. And yes, I say this beast has outstayed its welcome. We'll team up!"

The Risen looked at them with a soulless stare, gripping the handle of its massive two-handed axe. As the two charged it swept across their path with heavy blows, but they jumped it, landing two blows on each shoulder of the monster. Its arms fell off. Finally, both swordsmen turned around, and slashed at the creature's back. It let out an unearthly scream, and vanished in a purple explosion of darkness. The battle was over.

"Thank the gods! Everyone all right? We failed that ambush, but you all seem okay. Phew..." Robin sighed in contention. "A grave mistake, placing no heavy fighters in the group that was to attract attention. My apologies."

"It's all right. We did good." Ricken said, brushing off his shirt. "The Einherjar saved our hides there!"

"It was nothing, friends." Marth said with the wave of a hand. "Anyone in trouble, I rush to their aid. It's a character flaw, like Jeigan said... my old mentor..."

Back at camp the Shepherds took a look at their wounded, and started to pack up in order to move. Their next destination called.

"Hm? Why, if it isn't the lovely Sully! Such grace, magnificence, and splendor! You carry boxes like no other, milady!" Virion said, brushing through his turquoise hair and straightening his shirt. He had spoken to the woman of his dreams. One who did not like chivalry, or flattery. A fierce red-head with plenty of attitude.

"The hell? It's just boxes, you moron. Although... here!" She said, dropping one into Virion's hands. He almost fell over, and his face said that it would be impossible for him to hold it for long. "There's a man I respect! Go, Ruffles! Onward to the carts!" She smirked viciously.

"Oh, mon dieu... what a cruel twist of fate... and SPIIIINE!" He yelled, and dropped to massage his back.

"Well, that's all my junk." Roy said, panting from carrying his stuff to the carts. His wound had closed up, and was gone. Einherjar were lucky to not possess real blood, or he would have died hours ago, according to Maribelle. That bit confused him. He was normal, he could bleed... right? Soon a feeling of unawareness washed over him, and he forgot about it. Another effect the card spirits endured. "Marth, have you seen Eirika? I got her stuff, too."

"She was speaking with someone near the mess table... oh. I get it now, though." Marth said, with a nondescript face. It twitched with badly concealed amusement.

"What do you mean?

"You're kissing up to her! Carrying her stuff, serving her meals... I tell you, soon she'll have you set under her boot. Sheeda did the same to me. The difference is, I was ready. Are you?" Marth said, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face.

"HUH?! I-I-I don't know what you speak of... besides, I have so many lady friends already, I wouldn't want to make them jealous!" Roy said, face colored red.

"Just being a jerk, dear friend!" Marth exclaimed. "It wouldn't be friendship without a bit of strife!"

"Well... maybe I should just focus on doing what I can away from the Elibean continent, keeping these guys safe."

"There's a sensible kid!" Marth said and patted Roy on the shoulder. "Oh, there she is now. Act normal, and you should get over i-"

"MISS EIRIKAAAA!" Roy yelled out warmly, running past Marth with such force that the King was knocked over. "I carried your belongings to the carts, my fair dame. Is there anything else I can do?"

"Why thank you. But I think I should carry some things myself. I am not a frail princess raised to be soft... even though I prefer to avoid combat." Eirika said. Roy nodded too many times in agreement.

"Jeez... he says he wants to act older than he is, but those sixteen years he's seen aren't enough..." Marth said quietly, brushing off his shirt and cloak when he got up. "Eirika has garnered many gazes since she was recruited, though... quite a catch. Ah, Sheeda... I still wouldn't trade her for the world." He spoke softly, and left Roy to swoon as best he wished.

Aside from the first three, other Einherjar had joined at various times, though Marth knew little about them. Chrom and Robin were debating whether to bring in a few more to supplement their strength. There had been talk of Lyndis, a beautiful woman raised as a nomad turned into the heir of Caelin, a kingdom existing in Elibe, Roy's home. Then there was Ike from Tellius, a clever, stoic man who had never once turned his back on an ally in need... and never walked away from a fight left unfinished.

"What are the odds? So many, from many places, joining up at this time. It really does feel like my old crusade against the darkness of Medeus, Shadow Dragon! Fell he was, and foul-smelling! With the power of friendship, united people from many lands, he fell by my hand, twice even, upon his doomed return years later, and thus peace reigned... I could write a story, even." Marth finished, having swung an iron sword he had been given against an imaginary opponent. "Hah hah... no. I do not like to boast. I don't even like the center stage. A life in obscurity... it's an illusion for royalty, but a good one..."

He sighed. "Chrom knows my problems. But he'd never admit it... stubborn fool. Much like me before I became King..."

He left the thought there, feeling his awareness slipping. Nowi found him standing alone, overlooking a field as the caravan started moving behind them.

"Marth! We're leaving! Are you doing something?" She asked, upbeat as always.

"Oh... nothing. I just remembered those mountains over there look similar to what can be found on Akaneia... almost exactly like... no, it can't be..." He said, waving dismissingly at the mountain range. "Come, friend. We must catch up."

"I know how! Grab my feet!" She said happily.

"Um... what?"

"Just do it..." She pouted.

Marth bent down, grabbing her feet. She then used her Dragonstone to turn into a dragon. All Manakete tribesmen possessed such an ability, as long as their stones were with them. She flew a few meters above ground, fast. Marth's eyes teared up, and when he landed next to Robin in one of the transports they did so for a completely different reason.

"Ow... Chiki was much better at flying... ooogh..."

"Pffffft!"

Vaike had stifled a snort of laughter just in time, but still received a twisted glare from Marth. The axe fighter just looked away, content.

"Didn't you know, Marth? Chiki is in the army. She has been for a little while, since we helped her out. She said she did not expect us to find her, least of all in trouble. She's been serving as a priestess for a time in the land of Valm, to the west, and went here on some business or the other. I think it would be nice for you two to catch up, if you haven't met already." Robin said, but soon remembered what Chiki would act like, seeing only a dead man's memories talking. He was about to change his mind on the offer, but Marth was happy. He saw the look in the Hero's eyes, and just relented. "Well... she's in one of the carts. You can speak with her later."

"Something to look forward to! Thank you, I've always wanted to see her again!"

Chrom, sitting in the same cart, exchanged a glance with Robin. This could get weird... fast.


	4. Ch 3: Doubts that will not settle

Author's comments:

Alright, now we're getting into the real meat and potatoes of the story. Hope it's entertaining, and remember: ANY critique is very welcome, so long as it's not outright rude. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Doubts that will not settle

"Chiki! Fair lady of the Manakete! It is an honor to meet you again! Though may I say, you look... even more beautiful now, in such short time!" Marth said, kneeling and kissing the woman's hand. Her hair was green like Nowi's, but longer, and her entire figure was more mature. She wore a tight, sleeveless dress, colored red. Her face was among the most kind Robin had ever seen. She was at a loss for words just then, though.

"U-Um... nice to see you too. I... need a moment with the commanders. Excuse me." She said, flushed.

"Of course." Marth said politely.

When away from the rest inside the planning tent, Chiki told Robin and Chrom what she thought.

"The Einherjar... such a contraption. In all my millennia I have never come across more deluded beings. The poor things know nothing of what they really are... mere phantoms. Weapons only given personality so that someone may direct them properly. Old Hubba was a fool to let his cards spread so easily. He knows better, but... I can't convince him. He wouldn't listen... just kept staring at my chest." She said, insulted.

"I can see why..." "The Vaike" as he called himself, whispered in Robin's ear.

"Yeah... um, HEY, WHO INVITED YOU, VAIKE? GET OUT!" Robin said sharply, covering up his own slip of words.

"Spoilsport..." Vaike said, dragging his feet as he went outside, muttering.

"Milady Chiki, what do you propose we do?" Chrom asked, thinking about the situation.

"Me? Nothing. Let the cards keep their illusion. It's cruel, but to make them lose focus and have an identity crisis out on the field is not sound strategy... I think that's what the real Marth would say. I'll play along, even as I feel sad about it. It IS really nice to see a bit of him again, though, no matter its appearance."

"Chiki... do you... need a moment? Alone?" Robin said, pushing Vaike out of the tent again with a kick to the shins.

"No... summon "Marth" over here. I'll calm him, and make him focus. Or try, at least."

Later that day, Chiki and Marth had spent a good deal of time talking about the past, present, and in snippets, the future.

"What will you do, Chiki? After this war? Maybe come back to Altea and live in the castle?" Marth suggested. "Sheeda wouldn't mind."

"Oh, no, I live my life on the move, Marth. I could visit, though." She said. "Meet them all again... Kain, Abel, Jeigan... so many. I wish I could."

Her eyes were shiny now. As strong and wise as she was, this discussion had tugged at her heart strings. She would never meet Marth again, or the others. Altea's continued existence was a lie, except to the Einherjar, who knew nothing else. She had made a mistake talking to it.

"I... I'm sorry. I can't. Never again."

"WHAT?! But it's all here, in this world. The country isn't so poorly run it could sink into the ground at any time." He jested, but soon grew serious when he saw her shed a tear. "Chiki, friend, why do you cry? Have I offended you?"

"No... but your creators have. I'm so sorry..." She said, running up from her chair and into her own tent, pitched near the other girl's quarters. She knew she had made things worse now, but she couldn't stand to see this go on forever. "Damn your crafts, Hubba... you foolish old man!"

Marth was left speechless. The sun was setting in a fiery red that lit the mountains on fire, shining through the tent flaps. Her last words sank in...

_No... but your creators have..._

"What? My parents? But why... agh!"

He felt a sharp pain in his forehead. When faced with such doubts before, the spells on his card had erased his recent memory to prevent him from doubting who he was. Now, he only felt a surge of white-hot burning, which subsided in a few moments. He got up slowly, blinking at the mountaintops outside.

"Um... ugh... I... do recognize them... but there were farmlands below... a town. The army passed not three years ago, on our quest... could bandits have... no... not all of it... what is this witchcraft?!"

He flung himself against the chair he'd been sitting on. He sat, and panted. His headache was gone, and he felt... aware. Something was out of place.

"Is it... the... wait... the maps!" He said, unfolding a large map used for continent-wide strategy. It resembled Akaneia. Some things were changed. A few islands were off by some degrees, and the borders were redrawn. What panicked him was that he could see the borders of Ylisse, Regna Ferox, Plegia and more... but not those of any nation he remembered.

"How could this be? Am I back in time? Long ago, when desperate struggles were waged, and things looked different?"

"No... it is the other way around, friend."

Robin stepped in, with a solemn look on his face.

"Hubba said the seals would hold... but Tiki has apparently made you loosen yours. I'm sorry if this confuses you, but-"

"But what? Am I to believe that this is a distant future, where it's all gone? Everything I knew? I cannot. Will not. Must... not! You must be wrong. This is all a trick! Gharnef must be behind this, the vile sorcerer! You! You are my friend, right? Help me sort this mess out, and return Altea to me! Sheeda... if anything happens to her, I'll walk over the corpses of any who oppose me, peasant or noble!"

This speech was frightening. Gone was the compassionate Hero-King, replaced by someone much like Mad King Gangrel of Plegia, a bloodthirsty maniac. Marth took his sword, storming out, and yelling to all within earshot to gather for a march against Gharnef's forces.

"What's he on about? Lost his tiara or something?" Gaius asked Stahl, a cavalier who was dressed in green armor, had a cowlick haircut and great skill with the sword and lance.

"I dunno. Marth never gets frazzled. None of the card guys do. Hey, Marth! What's up?"

"Enh... YOU! A spy in our midst! Intruders! His armor is not standard Altean wear! Kill him!"

Marth charged the cavalier, who was at a disadvantage when off of his horse, and presently unarmed. His armor kept the blow from being fatal, but left a piece hanging loose.

"Oh no! Stop it! HELP! Chrom! Gaius! Frederick! ANYONE!"

He ran around as fast as he could, but the King's speed was too great. He struck where the plating was loose, and Stahl fell over, grunting.

"Oh, shit! CHROM! I can't beat him on my own! Get over here, someone!" Gaius cried, drawing a short sword. "Cowflops... I didn't think he hated me that much!"

Marth was blinded by rage and sadness. He struck violently at anything that moved. Just when he jumped into the air for a decapitation of Gaius, Chrom appeared, wielding the Falchion, the ancient blessed sword of Marth's line, the Lowells.

"What the hell is this?" Chrom said through gritted teeth, blocking the strike. "Cut it out, you damn spirit!"

"Hm... not only have you taken my land, but also my sword! Falchion will only listen to me! Your hands are unworthy, Prince!"

"Oh yeah?! In that case, you are unworthy too, ancestor!" He cried, breaking the blocking and tossing Marth's sword aside. The Spirit was confused.

"Ancestor...? You... are my... NO! LIAR!" He yelled, and readied to reach his iron blade. Before that though, he put on a dumbfounded smile as a loud CLANG was heard. He went down like a rock.

"He-hey! Nice to know my awful cooking actually saved something!" Sully said, wielding a frying pan. "Lucky I had wanted to try it at least once. Now I don't have to anymore!" She said, dropping the pan on Marth's head.

"GAH! Stahl!" Robin yelled, running up to his friend. He was barely breathing, and had lost much blood. "Get Lissa or Maribelle! Both! We need healing!"

Chiki had appeared next to Marth's still body. Using a vulnerary, she treated the wound from the pan. He groaned, and was moved along with Stahl to the infirmary.

Next morning Marth awoke, slowly. He felt at peace, and slowly became aware of what he did yesterday. It felt partly good, though, this new awareness of his surroundings. Before it had only been a matter of pointing him into a fight, and he cared for little else then. But now... Stahl, a friend, had almost been slain by his hand. In a fit of rage he had betrayed his own values. He intended to make it up to them all, somehow. He felt shame, along with suspicion. He couldn't piece together everything he had heard yet (possibly because of the timely pan strike to his head), and waited for an explanation. In a few minutes, a bandaged Stahl opened his eyes and turned to the padded stretcher beside his. His eyes nearly retracted into his skull.

"M-Marth? Was that... just a dream? Did you nearly kill me? Boy, I know you love your sandwiches, but it was JUST ONE, man! You didn't miss it all those days ago!" He said, wheezing in terror. He then noticed a bandage around the King's head. "...Got you to calm down, huh? I don't get it... but maybe I will."

"Stahl! I... can never forgive myself..."

"It's alright. I know, I'm nuts, but you weren't yourself back there. I can, however, ask to eat all your sandwiches for the next half-year! In your face, tiara man!" Stahl laughed carefully, feeling his injury.

"Yes, that seems fair." Marth sighed, glad he was forgiven. Maybe Sully had hit Stahl on the head as well, because this was too easy to forgive. But Stahl was an odd egg. So to speak...

People came by to see them both later, carrying in breakfast. Marth, however, received only a tiny fried egg, coal black. In the pan that hit him.

"EH?! Oh, dang. Sully really hates me..."

"No, I think she has the hots for you. Otherwise she wouldn't get up and cook again." Roy said, leaning against a portable bedside table. "Tsk tsk! Doing like the monkey and going bananas. Good thing Stahl is a bit thick... in hide AND mind!"

"I can hear you, Sir Roy..." Stahl said, a little hurt.

"Thank goodness! Too bad L'Arachel isn't here! Her healing would send anyone flying back up on their feet!" The spirit of Princess Eirika said, touching Marth's forehead. She moved a bit of her long blue hair out of the way. Her gentle face was looking worried for both her companions. Roy's mouth went agape in horror as he stared at Marth's face, which said "Well, if you want her so bad, jump off a cliff and then pick a stretcher, Roy!"

"You are lucky I didn't just revert you back into a card and toss it into the fire!" Chrom said, looking fierce. "I will NOT forgive as easily as Stahl."

"Cards? Oh, that's right! I-" Marth said, but was cut off.

"Please. It was my fault." Chiki said seriously. "I told him too much. His seal of unawareness broke. He felt too strongly... and so did I. He was in grief. Or rather... it was. You have questions. Robin, Chrom and I will answer. Meet us in the tent when you're ready... my liege." She spoke formally, and left.

The tent emptied, and soon Marth was left with Roy and Stahl to ponder.

"What did he mean, burn you as a card? Sully's "cooking" is spreading to others! Hurry, flee for your lives!" Roy chuckled, along with the cavalier. "No, but really? Are you not normal or something? I mean, flesh and blood?"

"...We'll see. Right now I don't know what I am. Nor you for that matter."

"Me? I'm as much me as the next person is itself. Although... I didn't bleed. When I saved Ricken... I had a huge gash, and only some swirling, glowy stuff showed. But that could mean anything. I don't care, I'm fine." Roy said, looking nervous.

"...I pray you stay that way, pal. By the Divine Dragon, I'm still hungry! I need to get out of bed..."

"Oh, no you don't!" An overbearing but kind voice said, pushing him into a lying position and covering him up with a blanket. It was Maribelle, a noble dressed all in pink with finely curled hair with ribbons in it, and alongside her, Chrom's sister, Lissa, a petite (for her age) tomboyish princess with distractingly set-up hair who was eager to prove her art of healing. Both smiled at the bed-ridden warriors.

"Let us get you something good! It would only be a pleasure." Maribelle's voice said. "I apologize for the lack of servants, milord, but the conditions we face require we drop such necessities. I'll send for Vaike to do it. He LOVES running errands."

Her mischievous tone suggested otherwise. Lissa was tending to Stahl.

"Easy there, man. Ugh! Don't scratch it! It'll get infected!" She said seriously as Stahl reached his wound's crust underneath the bandage.

"Can you itch it? Didn't think so. Thanks for your conce- OW! Why'd you slap me? Fine. Doctor's orders are doctor's orders..."

"Better. Now, let's get you some soup! Gregor has cooked up something special. It has mystery meat, apparently. Foreign cooking... funny, huh? Beats bear meat! Or maybe it IS that..."

After a healthy serving of lunch Marth was allowed to leave. Stahl would need more time ("STOP SCRATCHING, DAMMIT!"). He moved on through camp, getting eyeballed by many. Some were angry with him, others scared, but most looked confused. He would have to tell them all at some point. Munching on a sandwich, to no surprise, he pondered. He had a nagging suspicion he did not need it. As an Einherjar, he did not require food, water, or a bathroom. When he slept he also felt like it was not needed. Yet he still did, because it was fun. Being a normal person was, for better or worse. As he approached the command tent he felt scared of the answers awaiting him. He'd learned to not show fear, and entered with a casual walk.

Author Notes:

As you can see, I use the fan translation name for the Manakete, Chiki, instead of the official one, Tiki. I just decided to do so. Sorry if anyone got confused.


	5. Ch 4: Lost illusions

Chapter 4: Lost illusions

The three inside saw him enter, and steeled themselves.

"Good. Now comes the part we've been preparing." Robin said, holding up a crude sketch. "So, here's you, and this is the-! ...Did you let Nowi draw this, Chiki?"

"She was eager to help... but it turned out colorful at least!"

And that was about all the sketch was. Marth suppressed a hiccup laugh when he saw what he looked like on paper.

"Bah! I will start..." Chrom said, looking sincerely agitated. "Let us end your liable state before someone finds their arm or head missing from your tantrums! ...Ask away."

Marth sat down, staring attentively into Chrom's face. "First... where is this?"

"This is the Akaneian continent, although very changed. It has been about two millennia since your reign. Altea's legacy is Ylisse, my family's Halidom. All the lands you knew are gone, either in ruins or warped into different states over the centuries."

"Then no wonder the town was gone... it makes sense. But... that also means...!"

"Yes. Your friends are dead, since ages beyond memory. Your wife, every person you knew... except Chiki." Chrom said, glancing at the Manakete. She was very still.

"Sheeda... no... what... how did I end up here, then? I was visiting Talys when we first met."

"It was a dimension outside time. That Talys wasn't the "real" one." Chiki said slowly. "Old Hubba summoned you there."

"He ripped me from my time? Can I go back? Ever...?"

Marth knew something was off. Summoned? The cards that had been mentioned... were they linked to him? Was he a revenant, called forth from death's peaceful slumber?

"No. You died as well, long ago. What you are... is but a gathering of memories, inscribed on a magical Einherjar before Marth's death. He agreed that his skill could be needed in ages to come, just like several other historical figures. An image of his young self, with all his skill through a long life, but only the memories of his childhood, up through his twenties. A seal of unawareness was put on most cards, so that they could not lose their minds if they started remembering, and seeing that things were off. They would simply... accept orders, with an echo of what they sounded in reality. And if turned back into cards, their memories would reset regardless. Now that your seal is broken, though, I don't know if that can be done so simply." Chiki finished, very somberly.

He had suspected SOMETHING strange for a short while, in his darkest corners of the mind, but hearing it confirmed like this... his eyes went blank. He wanted to call it a lie... he oh so wanted to toss this off and find that it was a damned nightmare... but it was the truth. His heart told him... or, the memory of a heart.

"...I'm just... a tool. I should never have known this... but now that I'm aware of my surroundings... I really can't let this go. Never again. Unless Hubba can erase my mind, and grant me the peace I had..."

"Marth..." Robin said, at a loss for words when he saw the expression on his friend's face. It was ash-colored, and his mouth a stiff line.

"...Maybe you should, King Marth." Chrom said, lessening his stern pose. "If this keeps you from completing our mission, we have no choice. Old Hubba will have to... reset you. I'm sorry."

"Chrom! He's been with us, developing on his own. Hubba misjudged Eirika when we came to Talys and she was on the enemy's side. She wanted to parley, but the old man messed it up. He has underestimated these card phantoms. Given time, they act like they did in life. Maybe we should-" Robin said, but was cut off.

"They're still dead. And tools. I despise Hubba's ancestors for their acts, benevolent as they may have been intended, but here... it has caused suffering. My personal feelings are of no concern, but this phantom Marth... he reminds me too much of my friend. They should all act as they were designed to, to spare themselves from such pain."

"Chiki. I remember you so vividly, or at least like Marth did... such kindness, yet ferocity... I cannot decide... please give me time... I must process this, and convene with Roy... he should know too."

"HUH? Now, hold on! We don't want more bad blood between allies!" Chrom said, raising a hand in protest. "Be careful with your words... spirit."

The last Marth saw before walking out of the tent was an unwilling pity in Chrom's eyes. Outside, it struck him. Of course Chrom could wield the Falchion! Only those of the real Marth's line could wield it.

"So he spoke the truth about that... heh. Well, Marth would be proud of him. I know he has my respect for sure. A strong leader, but just. Like me in life... GAAAAH!"

He had walked off to a glen of trees outside camp. He tossed himself on his knees and batted the ground with his fists. The shock was subsiding, and now he felt grief, self-pity and anger.

"How could that old dastard do this?! His kin had no right to... even if that's what Marth wanted... why did my seal break? I... was comfortable knowing only what Marth had seen. To understand the cause now before me, and fight until it was over, uncaring about WHY."

He struck the ground again.

"Only to be handed back like a joker to a card set, back on the bottom of the pile. They never truly cared... did they? They knew, and there was nothing wrong then. Everything was fine... I would have my illusions... Chiki... she said she was to blame... the sight of me caused her to break... she really liked Marth... too much for her own good. And he liked her... I did."

He sat up, knees all muddied and grimy. Birds were tweeting mildly.

"I am just a tool... but can't I be more, like Robin insisted? I act like Marth, I have his voice, his looks... this stupid, beautiful tiara his sister gave him, that he might remember her by... but I am not him. I never was..."

He did not sob, but hot tears ran down his face in a stream. So a dead man could still cry, apparently...

Unknowingly, a figure had snuck after him. He did not see the person until he lifted his head.

"You're spinning in circles. Is this the way all royalty act when they find out a big secret they were never let in on?"

It was Gaius. The sugar-obsessed thief sat down on a stump nearby, chewing on a bar of fudge.

"I heard that whole thing. And lemme tell you, isch acktschually nowt thad bafd!" He said, mouth stuffed with sweets. He took a moment to chew it down."

"..."

Marth only looked neutrally at the man. How was he to know?

"Well, look at it like this. You, a card spirit, is a second chance for the person inscribed on it, if I got the facts right. Sure, you lost much, but you gained much too. Friends, a cause to stand for... sandwiches?" he shrugged. "I'm not your friend, but I want to make sure I still have a mouth to put candies in later. No more psycho rages, please."

Marth was silent.

"Okay, that did little. I'm terrible at talking people into acting sensibly. Mostly since I myself don't!" He laughed shortly. "Have someone else pull at your happiness strings, then. Let's see if you can't live up better to Marth's good rep'. Shouldn't spoil what's been good for a millennia!", Gaius said, walking off whistling, then loudly crunching away at a cookie.

The thief had tried to comfort, but failed. Still, Gaius wasn't as harsh a scoundrel as he let on, and would probably forgive Marth one day, like Stahl had. Marth saw no way out of anything yet. It was too soon to let go.

"Roy... he needs to know. I said so..." He thought weakly, and walked slowly back to the Einherjar tents.

"Good, you're back! What did you learn?" Roy said, eagerly awaiting the truth about this mystery. His enthusiasm was dampened when his comrade turned a very bleak face towards him, and explained.

"...That's heavy. I can't begin to imagine..."

"Oh, but you can. Face a great enough shock, and your seal breaks too. Believe it."

"Come on! You are one of those, but I..."

"Roy... think about how you got here. Did you just get summoned from Elibe one day, or is it just a blur, like you were in a limbo, and then suddenly fighting for a cause you understood, but did not care about?"

"I got here on my own... I must have. Don't give me doubts as well!" Roy said, massaging his temples. "I'm Roy, Marquess of Pherae and son of Eliwood. That's what I know."

"That's what you were designed for. I explained the mechanics. You have the same issue as I... only, your seal seems intact. You can still forget." Marth said compassionately, hoping that was the case.

"B-But... damn! IF, and only IF I am just a phantom, I still don't care! I will remain a defender of Elibe, and all other worlds until my days are over! But who has proof? That gash proves nothing! When I saw it, maybe it was the cause of some weird magic at play! Ricken could have put up a barrier around it, or..."

Roy's doubt was clear as day. His seal was weakening, too. Marth had made yet more mistakes by mentioning this. Well, he thought with ironic spite for himself, at least we'll share the misery...

"Listen. I... lied. You are normal. It's just my selfish need to find someone to share the burden with that-"

"Now, that's a lie about the truth!" Roy said, spinning around to look at his friend. "Be honest. Now that I consider it, I don't know how I got here. So much seems off. I wasn't this skilled at this age, that I can remember! I must be REALLY old as well... a-a card. I remember more Einherjar, from the Outrealms... Lilina... my mage friend, I fought against her in another world once! She would never attack me! We're all just toys in the hands of petty troublemakers! This makes me mad!"

Now Roy fell, having a headache, splitting and fearsome for a short time. When he got up, he looked really scared.

"This is terrible... I don't want to be something like this..." He said, eyes looking at the ground. "Ugh... that also hurt. But it can't be h-helped. I feel sad... but that's why we can go back to H-Hubba and have him reset us, if you're right. I need to f-focus, even if I want to live as Roy, continuing his story in his own time, with his c-companions. This w-world is almost over the edge, and if we fall in there, IT goes with us. I can't have that. For the sake of all he knew, Roy's skills must p-persevere. G-Gods, I don't know how I'm still sane..." He said, stammering slightly.

Marth was impressed by his friend's mental stamina. He was doing better than the Hero-King had done when he got the facts.

"I wish I could say the same. I know I'm selfish, but... I want to live free, continuing on my own terms... even if all I've... HE knew is gone. Right now, that place is in the army, but later... don't you think so too?" Marth said, scratching his head.

"You can't change the past, to have it all back... Roy's father said so. Mostly, we're stuck with the choices we make. Hah! I sound SO old right now..."

"We Einherjar never had a choice when it came to existing..." Marth thought darkly. "Hm... well, whatever choice YOU make, you're still my friend, Roy. No mind seal gets between us battle brothers!" He said, putting up a smile.

"...Of course. But don't tell Eirika about this now... she would be horrified!" Roy's phantom agreed, and high-fived Marth's hand. Whatever came next, even if Roy agreed to put out his self-awareness, their allies still needed them... and vice versa. Marth was still feeling sadly uncertain about what to do, shamed that he could not let go of his own needs. Perhaps if he developed a different style, to set himself apart from the deceased Marth? Gaius's words had some impact... could he still do Marth justice, and himself to boot?

_Let's see if you can't live up better to Marth's good rep'. Shouldn't spoil what's been good for a millennia!_


	6. Ch 5: Vaikeness is greatness!

Author's note:

I am flattered that this story has been viewed so many times. But I just want to say that I'd appreciate some more feedback on how I'm doing, if you have the time and urge to. No pressure. I'm just eager to learn how to write better. Regardless, thank you so much for reading to this point, and enjoy the new entry!

Chapter 5: Vaikeness is greatness!

A few days later an announcement came from Frederick. All troops were to assemble, and candidates for a mission were to be picked. It involved spying on a large-sized Plegian force, consisting of over one hundred fifty men, scouring the countryside. They were rumored to rest near a forest not thirty kilometers away. Their commander carried on with limited supplies, but was still wreaking havoc among the farmers.

"Durn cretins! I'll show 'em!" Donnel said, standing amidst the ranks of the other Shepherds.

"Well... let's have at them." Lon'qu, a silent warrior formerly serving the West Khandom of Regna Ferox, with black hair and a calm, serious expression said with closed eyes. He was a master of the blade, quickly finding critical spots on his foes. His own critical spot involved talking to women... any of them.

"Hey, Lon'qu! It's going to be rough out there, so have this!"

A woman with long red hair and a shining suit of whitish armor pressed a vulnerary into his hand with both of hers. He jumped two feet in the air and landed on his back, face red like a strawberry.

"M-M-Many thanks, M-Miss Cordelia!" He said, getting up and bowing in respect.

She giggled in appreciation and went off to mount her Pegasus for air scouting. Next to Lon'qu, "the Vaike" could not stop laughing silently, tearfully suppressing his glee.

"I can give you something else to cry about." Lon'qu whispered, having drawn his Killer Edge sword almost instantly, holding it before Vaike's throat. The axe fighter quickly scurried off, sweating nervously and smiling sheepishly. He did not stop until he was at the Einherjar tents, noticing he had gone past his own.

"Bah! Damn sense of direction doesn't work today. Looks like the Teach needs to look around better."

He had several nicknames for himself. Others had suggested some, like "Butthead" and "Intellectually challenged caveman". His were the best though, by his own standards. He noticed that Marth wasn't at the gathering, but in his tent reading a book, uncertain of what good he could do while so divided in mind.

"Hey, Marth! Why aren't you over at the roll call, listening to Frederick being an unfair hard-ass to us all?" Vaike wondered, sitting down at Marth's table.

"...Why aren't you, Sir Vaike?" he retorted casually.

"UMMMM... that's because... I... came here to... cheer you up! Yeah! The Teach knows what your problem is!"

"I find that hard to believe." Marth said, continuing his read, but listening attentively, still. Did Vaike have a solution?

"You're depressed about being a crummy card guy that has to take crap from everyone and follow orders, is what Chrom told us. Well, he only told a few, I sort of eavesdropped." he said, childishly proud. "I'm here to set you straight! Let's start with your manner of speech! Lemme hear your normal talk."

Marth closed his book, and spoke. The ramblings of royalty, precise, to the point and structured to bore commoners. That was all Vaike heard, almost dropping asleep.

"Ugh... you need to spice that up. Talk to men like you've been their pals all life, and talk saucy to women like they were your wife! I think that works..."

"You... THINK? As in don't know?" Marth said, raising his eyebrows. He should have known better than to listen to "the ogre without enough mental support pillars for his brain".

"Well, I'm not married yet, and I don't plan on it. But have a go, so I can see what works and what doesn't." Vaike shrugged. "Teach kinda knows his stuff, Marth. Come on, it'll be fun!"

"Yeah, I trust you have a back-up plan, too." Marth said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He would still try this, though. He wasn't sure where his common sense had gone off to in such short time...

Since he had been excused by Chrom beforehand and not had to attend the roll call, Marth could walk around as he wished... he did have to give up on normal privileges while not serving in battle, though. Like food. But now he and the Vaike would change things. Vaike had told him a few tips on how to speak to the guys, first. Marth approached to talk to Gregor, sharpening his sword.

"Hello, pal! Doin' something? Wanna grab a beer later?" Marth said, swinging his arm in a gesture that said "Hell yeah!" He hadn't acted this casual since Marth was with his best friend, a member of the Royal Altean guard, a real joker and good combatant. It felt off. Gregor was surprised.

"Hunh? Little King decides to act commoner in talk? Bah hah hah! What goofing this is about! Gregor would like drink, after hard work. Why not? Meet at mess hall by dinner. I bring more friends not on patrol, and Gregor's own brew, strong to melt dragon's teeth!" He smiled fiercely, but friendly.

When they left, Marth felt really good. That was a success. He would try that on more people. But now, he had to switch to a more smooth tone.

"Vaike knows best! Here's Marth, the lady killer!" Vaike presented to no one in particular.

"What? Such a brutish expression! I would never harm a l-"

"It's a figure of speech..." Vaike sighed. "Alright, there's one sweet piece. Go up to her, and do what I told you."

"I will improvise on what you told me. I was raised to treat the opposite sex with respect." Marth said, walking nobly up to the woman checking her equipment. She was called Miriel, a mage with dark red hair, robes and a pointed black hat. She sported glasses and analytical eyes, as well as a sharp intellect and sharp, alluring features.

"What an interesting encounter! An Einherjar... Marth, was it? From the history books? I imagined he was quite tall in his young years. But then again, my growth rate is exponential in comparison to many. One of the tallest in camp, I believe. From this I can conclude that..."

She went on talking to herself, discussing complex mathematics and magical theorems. Marth walked away, disappointed that she had not even looked at him after the first moment of conversation. Vaike simply dragged the King on to the next one.

"She's a beaut'. This time she's yours!" Vaike said with a roguish smirk, roughly pushing Marth towards the next woman.

"Um... hello, fair maiden. I am honored to-"

Vaike tossed a small rock at Marth and gestured wildly. "You're doing it wrong!"

"What I meant was, you look mighty fine today! Care for a drink at the mess table? Or how about a moment away from camp, the two of us? Simply to discuss matters of great import, of course!" Marth said, putting on his royal charm and smiling dazzlingly. "So this is how Virion does it? Why doesn't he drown in ladi-"

Next thing he felt was a backhand sending him flying. Out of the corner of his eye while lying on the ground, he saw a middle finger raised at him. Sully had taken offense, then...

"Oops. My bad. Should have picked a delicate flower instead." Vaike said in apology. "Only Virion has the guts to chase her..."

This third attempt would be good. Marth's confidence was high, despite struggling. He thought quick flirting wouldn't do any harm, since Sheeda never was HIS wife, and also gone now... That still felt like a lie anyway, that sent his stomach cramping with guilt.

"Okay. This girl won't know you're there, and you won't know who she is. Turn around when I give the signal, a pigeon's call." Vaike said behind a bush, having set up Marth to face his back against a woman tending to her packed clothes. She was oblivious to their presence. He would jump out, and skillfully say something to make her blush... for a good reason. Marth didn't have this much fun since his live self was fifteen!

"Oh, man... if only Jeigan could see me now... he'd go ballistic."

At the call (which sounded more like a cat scratching a chalk board), he turned around, jumped out with grace, went down on one knee and opened his eyes.

"YOU SET MY LOINS AFLAME, OH BEAUTIFUL VIXEN!" He yelled, and upon seeing part of the lady's features, his eyes turned near heart-shaped. He was moving up in the world of shamelessness. Before his common sense returned brutally swift. "...Pardon, that first sentence came out wro-!"

Marth felt tiny. Like a bug about to be squashed. His day was ruined. He had no idea Vaike would lead him to... Chiki.

"...Heh heh... oh gods... I... thought that.. well." he gulped, quickly getting up and running off to Vaike. Chiki stood dumbstruck, blushing in confusion.

"What is that spirit up to?" she wondered. "...Loins aflame?"

"VAIIIIIIIKE!" Marth yelled. "Where the hell are you, miscreant?"

Vaike was in a fetal position behind the same bush. He was laughing so hard tears were spraying on the ground before him.

"L-L-Loins afla-a-a-a-a-ame! GODS, MY STOMA-A-A-ACH-CH-CH! Oh, this is better than when-"

He stopped when he saw Marth tapping his foot in front of him. The King's eyes were aflame, as well. Vaike didn't laugh more when Marth punted down his fist on top of the fighter's head, with fury.

"Ouch... I earned it. But that was brave, I didn't think you'd actually say it! Real Vaikeness in you, man! If it means anything, you don't act at all like a mindless drone! You should be fine even if you're sad now. The ladies love y-!"

Another point-making fist. Another grunt in pain.

"I looked like an idiot! UGH! When I next talk to you, I'll wear earplugs!" he said storming off. "I'm so embarrassed... Chiki... sorry."

He went off to the mess table. All this scheming had made time pass, and dinner was ready. "Chrom said I couldn't drain resources from the needy... but hell, I'll drink to my health anyway!" He said defiantly, sitting down with Gregor and a few others. The scouting mission wouldn't start until tomorrow, so some wanted to grab a pint before they faced possible death.

"Ah! Marth, King of the Slayey Ladings! Lady Slaying! Something... we heard. No point in dwelling on it... have good time!" Gregor said, raising a pint for his friends, and chugging it down in seconds. Marth could scarcely believe the rate rumors passed around camp, but took it as it was, grabbing a mug and pouring up the strong brew. He was about to swig it, when he noticed something. Roy.

"What? Roy! Aren't you underage?" Marth asked. But if that mattered, then Roy wouldn't be here. Einherjar couldn't get drunk... right?

"UUUUUUURRRP! Yesch, I'm having a ball! Er, bawll!" He hiccupped. "I needed to clear my head, scho thisch isch goodz..." He said, fainting.

"Oh no... poor boy is too weak for manly drink. No shame there, he is just sixteen years." Gregor shrugged, picking Roy up and putting him back in the spirit's tent. The big man returned shortly.

"I think I'll pass on it. Regular beer for me, thanks."

"Suit self, as lazy taylor says." Gregor said, and poured weaker alcohol into Marth's mug. The royal spirit was still in for a surprise next morning...


	7. Ch 6: Scoopfuls of trouble

Chapter 6: Scoopfuls of trouble... and where's my Pegasus?

Marth felt really woozy. He woke up, slowly moving his torso about, feeling a throbbing headache. Einherjar could get drunk. Lovely.

"O-Old Hubba... he deserves a thousand millennia in h-hell... putting in so many restrictions, but not one for alcohUUUUURGH!" Marth said, not vomiting, but feeling sick all the same. He waited for a few moments, calming down. He recovered faster from drinking than normal humans, he discovered, and could soon sit up properly. He then noticed his armor was off, and that he wore only his shorts. He was in a tent, but not one he was familiar with. Next to him, on a bed roll, lay another person. There was a problem. The bedroll had been shared... by Marth.

"UWAAGH! What has happened? Did I get that drunk? Jeigan, come back to life and kick my sorry bum, please..." He said silently. "I hope I didn't..."

Whoever it was, the person was wearing their full set of clothing beneath the sheets. Even armor. So that was a relief.

"Whoever that is, she must have been very drunk too. It IS a woman, right? Saints and necromancers, please say it is so!" He thought in panic. Although he could be forgiven if it turned out to be Libra, the very feminine-looking priest the Shepherds recruited in Plegia. No, that would make it worse...

Another relief. The girl turned around, resting uncomfortably in her armor and throwing off her bed sheet partly.

"Phew... now, why is only MY armor off? Did this happen without the consent of both parties?" He thought, annoyed. "This didn't get far, because she would have smushed me with her armor on. But who exactly is it..."

Marth lifted the cover, still lying across her face, and in that moment, she woke. She hadn't been drunk enough to react slow because of a hangover, and screamed.

"EEEEEEEEEEEK! MARTH!"

"BY THE HERO ANRI, I'M SO SORRY!" He yelled in response, flushed just like Lon'qu. "I didn't do anything! I think..."

"What in blazes are you doing here? Without your clothes?!" the Pegasus knight Sumia yelled. Her winged head ornament was still on, and her long, bushy hair was a little messy. "Is that... a tattoo?"

"What? Where?" Marth asked.

"Right here!, she said, punching him square in the face, sending him flying a short distance out of the tent and tossing his clothes after him. "You jerk! Watch the alcohol next time!"

"Ungh..." Marth said, twisting his head on the ground to speak to her. "You had some too, or you wouldn't have let me in."

"Yes, but... I'm too delicate for alcohol! Gregor just gave me a sip, and then I was struck silly! I was defenseless, and you took advantage of that!"

"Nothing happened! I swear, it's not what you think! I can't drink booze in any context, apparently... spirit OR alive."

"...Well, no harm done this time. We'll have to watch out, both of us. Promise?" She said, looking stern.

"Promise..." The Hero said meekly. "Can... I get a hand?"

"Fine..." She said, stretching her back for a short second and then reaching out to help him. She tripped over nothing on the last step. It was her specialty. "Whoa!" She landed on Marth, bruising him.

"AIIIIYYEEE! Uncle, I call uncle, I give up, just... my lungs!" He gasped. Her armor was medium heavy, and nearly crushed him. She rolled off quickly, and got up to give him a hand. He didn't grab it.

"What's the matter?"

"Hee hee hee... I feel pain..." Marth giggled, nearly unconscious.

"Wow... let's have Maribelle see you. Again. She'll be pleased you didn't hurt anyone on this visit to sick bay." Sumia said, and dragged the limp Marth with her.

He recovered fast with a few vulnerary's help. He put on his clothes again, and thought to make things up to Sumia, when he met Roy on the way to his tent.

"Hello, King of Ring-a-Ding-Ding!" Roy jested, hiding his sad mood with a smile. "Got busy hitting THE MARKET, I hear? A mage, Miss Totally Aggressive Dragonspawn, and the ACTUAL dragonspawn lady. You lucky dastard, you. I haven't even given Eirika flowers..."

"I'll hide a snake in Vaike's bed later... I can't find a style that works yet. How about you?"

"I go on as I think Roy would right now. Happy-go-lucky little douche who people respect anyway. It's funny, because it's not really like him. He was calm and composed for his age, now that I think about it. Oh well!" He laughed. "No need to rush. This awareness thing is actually getting fun, no matter what I might feel tries to counter that. Want some breakfast? It's still just 10 A.M."

"Nope. Chrom's orders. No eating. My sandwiches... I was making a new one before this stuff happened. I was calling it the "Pegasus Kick", with dried chili, lamb shreds, onion and pepper. With a few leaves of salad and a slice of tomato. My mouth would water at such thoughts... Well, off to apologize to Sumia properly. I got a bit drunk, like you, and..." He said, cocking his head in a way that meant "You know, those things that should not have to happen".

"So far gone? Did you get to-"

"GODS, NO! You cad! Beast! Pervert! Devil! I would never take advantage of a girl in such a confused state. Nor at any other time either for that matter." He said, more seriously than intended.

"Calm yourself. I was just kidding." Roy apologized, holding his hands up before him slightly in case of a face smack. "No need to let it get under your skin. We men are terrible at times. Just like women can be complete bi-"

"Finish that sentence, and the camp will bathe in your blood. Not by my hands, mind you." Gaius said, strolling by. "Hey, kingly man! Found your groove yet?"

"Not yet. I'm still trying. Have you seen Sumia? I need to tell her that-"

"Oh, her? She was out looking for her Pegasus. The beast was gone when she went to the pens, and no one has seen it since yesterday. Did you lose it when you strutted around with her? You both seemed to have a good time while wasted before." He said, flashing a taunting smirk. "Well, I'm off. Should prepare to steal spoils from the dead Plegians when we've, eh-hrm, "met them"."

Marth was a bit angry with Gaius's attitude, and did an accurate impression of Nowi when the burglar turned his back. "Suuuuuuuugaaaaaarrrrr..."

"Oh hell no!" Gaius said, looking around in a fret, then zooming up into the nearest tree. "Get back! I left it all with... um... Frederick! Yeah! Go get him, Nowi!"

Marth was satisfied with putting the thief in place, and went over to Sumia, finally. "Hello, milady. I understand an apology is in order, and-"

"You lost my Pegasus. Admit." She said, looking very displeased. "I won't take your apology until we find it."

"Well... if I knew where to look, I'd start now. Any clues?"

"My mount didn't go flying, which is a relief. But the fact that she's not here means she must be hurt. Otherwise she'd sense me and come back if taken away. The tracks lead towards the Plegian forces, in the woods. If we hurry, we might escape their patrols and meet up with our own. Then it's off to do battle in a few days."

"Look, I'll make it up to you. Come with me. Now, where's my sword?"

"Chrom told us to not give you a weapon until you were back to normal... but here! A heavy soup ladle!" She said, giving him a quite useless weapon from a nearby cooking pit. "We have plenty."

Marth looked at the ladle in disgrace. He took it, and gave it a few swings. He couldn't wield this... if anything, it would just barely fall into the category of axes, not blades. He was too unfamiliar with those types of arms. "Better than my fists." He relented, and set out with Sumia after telling Robin where they were going. Robin had a very puzzled expression when he saw the ladle... but at least he wouldn't throw a fit if Marth left camp, like a certain blue-haired prince.

Out in the woodlands (there was another forest before the plain that led to the Plegian camp), Marth and Sumia carefully called for the Pegasus, to no avail. Sumia tried a shrill whistle, designed to reach the ears of far-away animals. All she summoned to them was a hedgehog.

"Hello, little guy!" She said, bending down and patting it without her armored gloves. Animals trusted her enough so as to not hurt her, even during first encounters. She knew the right way to stroke spiny creatures without impaling something. "Isn't he adorable?"

"Yeah. I guess... who's a good fellow?" Marth said, relaxed, petting the hedgehog. It suddenly rolled up into a ball. "Whuh? Come on, something must like my weird self!"

Sumia laughed softly. "Off you go, back home!" She told the hedgehog. It stopped after release, making a few sounds and turning its head a few times in a direction. "What? Do you know where my friend is? Marth, follow this animal!"

"Why? Can you speak Animalese, now? What makes you certain it's..."

"No time. Lead us, noble beast!" She said, running alongside the hedgehog.

"Ugh... Sheeda thought she could speak with animals too. Marth ended up in a beehive that time..." The Hero spirit said, running to catch up.

When they arrived at the place the hedgehog had led them too, it whimpered once and ran away, scared.

"Why would it be scared? There's not much going on h...ere." Sumia continued silently, after seeing a clearing. Three men in Plegian armor stood there, holding the Pegasus. It whinnied loudly, sensing the ill intent from these crooks.

"Har har! We's got a fine prey, 'ere. The commander lost his wyvern mount weeks ago. Maybe this nice horsie can lift his spirits! If nothing else, we can cook it!" A soldier with a thick beard said, looking for additional ropes to tie up the wings. They flapped wildly. "Ugh! At least wyverns show when they're gonna hurt you! These beasties just strike when they please, outta the blue!"

"Grrngh... I'll skewer them." Sumia said, readying a lance.

"No! We need to think this through. Most of them use swords, so you have an advantage. But there's three of them, so I need to draw their attention, while you get your mount, and fly up to help me from above. Got it?"

"...Sounds good. Ready?"

"Wait, what? I thought I was- WHAUH!"

He was pushed out into the clearing, holding his ladle beside him. The soldiers noticed him directly. Sumia snuck around the trees towards her Pegasus, reaching it as the three neared Marth. It would take a few moments to untie it.

"Well, well. I think I've seen a picture of this guy in my mum's storybooks! Only, he's dead... and he never used a ladle, methinks. Mark... eh, Martha... um... screw it. Why are you snooping around? You Ylissean swines should stay in your dirty sties. No one's gonna save you, or the horse!" The bearded man said, charging with his sword. Marth parried the blow with his heavy ladle, but lost balance. Rolling out of the way of a downward thrust by another man, he got up and hit that one in the crotch. The soldier fell over, fainting from the crunchy noise that he had heard... and the pain. The other two teamed up on the King, oblivious of Sumia's rescue attempt. Marth swung his ladle at the shins of the bearded one, and hit home, breaking through a light sword block. He jumped up and down in pain and frustration, until the ladle "struck gold" on his forehead. He also fainted.

Sumia was now done, and jumped up on her mount, hugging it tightly once, and then grabbing the reins. She soared up, and targeted the last soldier in the tiny company. She was about to strike and retreat, when an arrow soared past her face. On the ground there were far more than three soldiers moving in on their position. And all Marth had was a ladle. He couldn't picture a lamer battle than this. Sumia forced herself to the ground, to fight at less risk of plummeting from an arrow strike.

The newcomers only had one archer, but plenty of swordsmen. With the (sort of) axe type ladle, Marth was at a disadvantage. Those weapons could attack lances brutally hard, but swords were too quick. He struggled against them, using his inherent speed and skill to dodge. All in all, twelve enemies were present, and Sumia used her weapon advantage against swords to the fullest, impaling some foes before they got close, and then spinning the shaft to crack someone's jaw. In the end, she got grabbed from behind, and forced to the ground when she wasn't looking back. She called for Marth, but he was very busy.

"So... damn... heavy!" He said about the ladle. "Can't we... sit down and... eat?" He asked between dodges. The Plegians only laughed as they tried to hit him over and over. The archer had other things in mind. He had targeted the horse, which trampled the captors of its mistress. Sumia saw this when she was about to go over to Marth, and desperately jumped in the path of an arrow. Her Pegasus neighed like a thunderstorm, rushing over to trample the vile archer bloody.

"SUMIAAA!" Marth cried. He now got the speedy resolve to finish off the men around him. "Justice in but one... strike." He breathed, crouching down into a position that indicated defeat, or so the Plegians thought. In but a second, he was gone in a blur, on the other side of the clearing. The soldiers looked strange, standing still for moments. Then they fell, one by one, with blunt wounds on their heads and bodies. "Fell is his wrath, Marth Hero-King... ugh! Sumia!"

He ran over to her. She had coughed a good amount of blood, and barely remained awake.

"Uh-hurgh! I... got too careless. I'm sorry... I'm a klutz..."

"No! It was all me! I'm so sorry... not again. Just like Stahl... HELP! MARIBELLE! LISSA! ANYONE! Here, a vulnerary..." He said, gently rubbing the ointment around the arrow wound. It looked a bit better, but she still had internal wounds. Marth made up his mind. She fainted quickly out of pain just then, and he carried her like he would carry a newborn, up on her mount. "Ride with care and diligence, noble Pegasi."

The winged horse realized the urgency in his voice, and took off right above ground, swiftly but gently zooming between the trees, until they reached camp.

"Maribelle! Please, help!" Marth said, walking in and carefully placing Sumia on a stretcher. Maribelle's face turned aghast.

"What...?! Lissa! Prepare water for the wound, and band aids! I don't know what happened, but if it helps, I trust you didn't do this!" She said to the King, concerned and angry. "Come back in a while, I-"

"No. I will watch her. Please."

"...Alright. Get me an armor cutter for the straps. We need this off now!"

"Right away!" Marth said, wasting no time. "Now this happens without HER consent instead..." He thought with a tear in his face. Would someone always get hurt by his mistakes?

Author Note:

Hope I got the mix between comedy and seriousness right here. I'm pleased with this chapter overall, actually! As always, please feel free to leave reviews. Thanks!


	8. Ch 7: Mistrust comes in many flavors

Chapter 7: Mistrust comes in many flavors

"Hope you're happy... you damn son of a bitch." Chrom said angrily. Marth was sitting with him and Robin in the command tent again. "Sumia will recover. She HAS to... what were you thinking?! You should have asked a heavy fighter to come, or... or someone but just the two of you! I know it was her idea, but you lost her Pegasus to begin with! Gods, you are a disaster! With or without your consent, you are going back to being the nulled, simple and obedient tool you're supposed to be... once we finish the Plegians, that is. We might not even keep you."

"Chrom... Marth has made errors, but he's... different. I told you. He should be allowed mistakes too." Robin said. "Although this risk was very grave. I can't speak in your defense any longer, Marth. Even if I wish so, Chrom makes the final decision. It is his right."

"Thank you, Robin. I have forgiven enemies, even, and recruited them into our ranks. I can forgive you, Robin, for not telling me where they'd gone until too late. But you... this will take some time. If you can't pull it all together, then this is over. Your last chance is now. You're on kitchen duty until the Plegians are dead. Then we find a way into the Outrealms that's closer than the island off the south coast. Pray no one dies from food poisoning!" He said threateningly.

"Yes, sir." Marth said, in terrible spirits as he slumped out of his chair and towards the kitchen tent.

"...Ever since Chiki broke him he's been sad to look at. Things will be better for us all when he's nullified. Roy took it way better when Marth broke his seal. He can stay the way he is." Chrom said slowly.

"...Chrom... I hope this is for the best." Robin said, a bit grieved that the King would soon only know of their mission again, and not enjoy his time with friends, being an unknowing instrument. "For the best..."

Marth now received openly hostile glares from his peers. Most didn't care for him now, only a few would even talk to him, and but three would address him respectfully. Roy, Gaius (very ironic, the King thought), and Chiki. In his miserable state all he wanted to do was peel potatoes. He donned a chef's apron, removed his cloak, and moved his sleeves up to the shoulders. Sitting there with a peeler he wondered if not the potatoes would scold him as well. It was childish, but did he deserve to be treated like dirt, when he tried so hard?

"'Ey. See you got yourself in a pickle. Speaking of which, where are those disgusting things? Gregor called for some, he said he wanted to cook "real" food." Roy said, having picked kitchen duty freely for his pal's sake. "You'll mope forever at this rate! Come on, you love making sandwiches! Why not try out that new one? It's almost lunchtime, and the ingredients are all in crates and barrels here. Ylisse keeps her soldiers well supplied, at least." Roy said, spinning a pickle in the air, catching it by the teeth, and chewing off a piece. "BLACH! EWW!"

Shamelessly, he put it back in the barrel. Marth figured he might as well do this, even though he felt like shrinking into nothing. He took a piece of bread, put chili, onion and tomato slices on it, after applying butter to lessen the bread's dryness. Then he peppered a few pieces of cooked lamb, shredded for easy consumption. Those were put on, along with some leaves of lettuce. He tested one, and before he knew, he had eaten three. Roy smacked him playfully with a ladle for it, to which he took greater offense than Roy could figure out why. The plates stood ready, and were handed out to many by Marth himself.

"Hope it tastes good!" He said cheerfully, not looking anyone in the eyes.

The general agreement was that, stupid as he was, Marth was no fool in the kitchen.

"Mm-MMM!" Gaius said, patting Marth's shoulder after lunch. "Best darn 'wich ever! Though, maybe some salsa next time... for sweetness. Ooh, or jelly! Cranberry, or... well, we shall see. Won't take the Plegians long to join us at the table, and on the front lines if we give 'em some!" He chuckled, walking off with an after-meal snack. "I'm still not your friend, Marth! Just to be clear!"

"Yeah, yeah... jackass." Marth said humorously to himself when the table was cleared of people. Someone else came up to him. A second former Plegian soldier (the other being Tharja), Henry, the young white-blonde Dark Mage dressed in purple robes, stood sniffing at a pile of rubbish with closed eyes and a creepy smile. Nothing new for him. "Uhh... hello, Henry?"

"Ah, hello! Just admiring the foul air here! It kills that smell of perfume Tharja forces up my nostrils. Oh, boy. What a tasty sandwich, by the way. I didn't clearly see what parts of the lamb's body you used. Can I watch you slice open a few pieces? Preferably bloody." He smiled, and spoke like this was a natural subject.

"Ugh... well, if you clean your hands, you can help me cook dinner!" Marth said, thinking the following: "The real Marth would have ripped my card in half and used it as mulch for this..."

"Yay! Save me the skull, too. Do we have those? Or are the pieces treated by a butcher in Ylisse? Ah, darn." He said, disappointed, and walked off to prepare.

Not much happened, save a mountain of dishes being cleaned before supper. Hours later, Marth had taken a cup of tea with Roy, and then started on the main event of the day.

"The troops report Plegia is nearing our camp, but only scouts. We have nothing to fear for now. Tomorrow is the time for arse-kicking!" Roy said, wielding a meat fork as a weapon and stabbing some dried ox meat. "Of course, I'll be in the thick of it. And I expect something nice when we all return. Like a roast boar with apples and boiled rice, with a side of carrots, deep fried pork knuckles and-"

"Here." Marth said, shoving an apple in Roy's open mouth. "Now, work, friend. I must be efficient."

"You're no fun." Roy sighed, putting the apple back like the pickle, and chopping up some onions. His eyes watered. "Sniff... maybe if Eirika sees me now, she'll think I'm a nice sensitive guy!"

"Or a total wimp." Marth said.

"Ha hah hah. Hilarious." Roy responded dryly.

"Indeed. Now, a boar would be cool. Digging in grisly intestines and bloody matter... it makes me happy." Henry said behind Roy. The red-headed heir of Pherae clutched his chest.

"Jeez! Henry, is it? Alright, first, don't be creepy. Second, cry tears so I don't have to." He requested, giving Henry the knife. The young mage immediately sliced the onions, crying with a smile.

"If you want to slack, why pick kitchen duty?" Marth asked, annoyed at the ineffective kitchen staff.

"To help you cope with a crisis. Right now, though, you seem fine. So I'm off! I'll tell someone else to come by!"

Roy ran out, intent on asking a special someone to work in the kitchen. The Hero-King muttered under his breath. "Divine Dragon and the Sword of Light... why is he such a kid?"

"Well, technically, he is one. I can at least act my age." Henry said. "Whoa-hoh... I cut my finger."

"Lemme see OH MY WHAT?!"

Henry finished cutting the onions, and had reached for a piece of lettuce. He cut his finger quite badly when he started cutting that. Blood had sprayed on some food stuffs that were now inedible.

"Aw, it's alright. My blood is tasty, no one's gonna get sick!" Henry said in what he believed to be a comforting tone, and tried patting Marth on the shoulder. The Hero-King jumped back a few steps in disgust, seeing that Henry used his cut-up hand to do it.

"GUAH! No thanks. Here. A band aid and a vulnerary. I keep these around nowadays." He said, giving them to the mage.

"Look at the pretty color! Ouch... alright, I'll go see the nurse." He said, walking out. "But maybe I should drain more blood into a vial... and then brew it with something!" Henry smiled.

Marth was left with a mess. He wiped it up, and tossed the bloody food into the trash. Then there was the matter of keeping check on the boiling potatoes, cutting more veggies, stewing the ox meat with the right amount of water, spices, a sip of wine, and lastly-

"GRUNGH! My kitchen is too big... I need help. Damn it, Roy... I'll put a booger in his servi-"

"Hm? Marth? I was sent to help. Do you need it?"

The spirit turned on his heels. Chiki was in the kitchen, sleeves up and ready for cooking. Marth was flushed again, and could not say a word. She broke the silence.

"OH! The taters!" She yelled, running over to the over-boiling pot, pouring some water on the ground and evening out the temperature. "Well... what do you want me to do? I have over a thousand years of active experience. Just say the word."

"Um... let's see here..."

While they sorted out the meal, Roy looked at them both through a flap in the tent. He was glad Chiki didn't need much persuasion. And Marth really enjoyed her company. That was the important part.

Then came the grand feast. Marth and Chiki outdid themselves. The only thing anyone could complain about was why they didn't hire them as chefs long ago, to which Gregor looked very downed. There was stew of ox with a seasoned amount of red wine in, and delicious fresh-cut spices. On the side, boiled potatoes covered in a light tomato sauce and tiny amounts of parsley, along with a salad sporting lettuce, carrots, more tomatoes, cucumber, a few cubes of goat cheese, and Feroxian vinegar, strong and bitter. Even dessert was there, in the form of candied apples and ground cocoa beans, mixed with cream and sugar. Gaius nearly wept, and could have kissed Chiki, but was busy holding off Nowi from his plate. "No! NO! NOOOO! Get someone else's serving! Gods damn it! You're a thousand years old, act like it!"

When that was over, faith had been partially restored in Marth. More so when Sumia went up for a portion, later on. She was bleak, and would need a week to heal her inner parts. The arrow had been poisoned, as well. Her appetite was at no fault, and she ate all the leftovers, few as they were. People were happy for her recovery, and glad Marth had acted sensibly when they were in the woods. After all, they made mistakes, and so did he. Marth didn't know of their opinions yet, and so he focused on cleaning when Sumia had given him a hug in thanks and gone to rest. He washed dishes eagerly, picturing the stern face of Chrom going numb with delight when he had tasted his dinner.

"He may forgive me yet, that skull knocker..." He thought.

"Marth, that was incredible. We make a good team... like always." Chiki said, wiping a table clean of vegetable pieces.

At this, Marth turned his head towards her. Did she realize what she just said? Apparently so, since her face went down with shame after the statement.

"I mean... he and I did. I... should do this myself. Go rest, friend Einherjar. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"...You've been kind... despite the trouble I've caused. Marth would have been proud. I don't care how I know it, but... I do. Good night. Call me if you need anything." Phantom Marth said, and went to his tent. Chiki kept cleaning, but slowly, like she did not want to ever exit the tent. A single tear fell on the newly wiped table, before she put her mind towards other things.

He felt strangely calm lying down outside his tent (Chrom was rock solid on not letting him have access to a bed he didn't need), despite the shock and loss having truly sunk in over this past week. He would need to prove himself more, he thought, in order to gain the right to lead, once. To see if Marth had made a good choice putting his memories in a dinky, little card.

Author Note:

Well, Henry's out of place by about two years. But who DOESN'T want the guy who happily yells "I'M GONNA KILL YOU!" upon critting to join earlier?


	9. Ch 8: Uncertain judgment

Chapter 8: Uncertain judgment

"All right. Troops, MOVE INTO MARCHING FORMATION!" Frederick's stiff voice cried out in order. He was sitting on his fearsome war steed, axe, lance and sword on his back. He was a Great Knight, and knew the three disciplines of melee weapons. Many Shepherds went out into battle now, having heard the Plegians were moving rapidly to assault them after a scout unfortunately escaped. From prisoners they had taken, only one spoke, a young man with black-tinted purple hair, an inexperienced face, and no hard feelings against Ylisse and its rulers.

"Ya see, sir... my brothers have a plan to attack on two fronts. I swear it. The commander is grounded, a former Wyvern Knight, who lost his ride a few weeks back in a rock slide, flying at too low an altitude in a canyon. He's banged up and grieved beyond reason. He chopped down my childhood friend Nikolas... the commander is a blasted old motherf-"

"HM! Watch your speech, man!" Chrom said, sizing up the captive. He was scared, alone in wanting to end the conflict peacefully on the Plegian side, and also had received an arrow through the shoulder. He would have to rest until he could be put on trial. Seeing as his disposition was friendly, he would not receive a strong punishment. After all, he seemed hardly more than Donnel had been when he was recruited; a simple farm boy with a heart for peace. "Take him away. You will be treated more fairly here, Plegian, than among your own... if you behave."

"From this we can assume that, if the boy is right, we should split our forces. Cavalry should ride towards their camp around the woods, and assault when the main force is gone. I shall lead them. You, milord, have asked to lead the force going west, while Robin handles the eastern threat with a set of heavier troops. He will need them if there are knights marching up. We only have a few Hammers, so our potential for armor penetration is limited. When their camp is burning, we shall rush through the forest, and hit their rear. Lissa and Maribelle shall take on the healing of one group each. Also, Chiki and Nowi will harass the enemy as dragons by swooping by with flames. They are quite precise, as I've seen, so no friendly fire is expected. All clear, as we rehearsed?" Frederick said seriously.

"All clear, Fred. Roy, you all gathered?" Chrom asked, hand on his sword hilt.

"Here, milord. Now we strike, to defend our friends." The spirit said, raising his iron sword. "I wish I had Durandal or the Sword of Seals instead, but sacred swords are hard to come by." He joked, and moved out under Robin's lead.

"Sacred swords... lucky me." Chrom said, patting Falchion's hilt, then drawing it quickly to signal departure.

From his place in the kitchen Marth heard the troops marching off. He wasn't feeling selfish today. He was very worried about his friends, but could not lend his skill to the fight until he'd been "wiped clean" later. So he simply prepared a big meal for the returning heroes of war. The only ones left in camp were a few Ylissean guards and Sumia, who should have been resting. Instead, she sat down in the kitchen, talking to Marth.

"It's got to be useful, never having to sleep or eat unless you want to. But boring... doing everyday stuff keeps you active!" She said positively, mildly massaging her side, and the bandaged wound.

"True. But there's not enough Einherjar to go around making tireless armies! At least I don't think so..." Marth said, tossing an egg in a pan, flipping it. "That would be weird, seeing myself over and over in large columns... although, I think I remember Chrom mentioning seeing a different Marth card in his Outrealm adventures, as an enemy. Apparently several of the old fortune-teller's ancestors made a few different interpretations of what us heroes were like."

"Uh-huh. You know, you did well saving my hide. I can admit that. I'm so clumsy I wouldn't have made it back as a ghost!" She shrugged comically. "Huh... I'm not even nearly as good as Cordelia or the other Pegasi Knights. It's been a rough life..."

"Marth felt his life go down the drain when he faced exile for some years, leaving Altea to suffer because he had no choice. The people forgave him, but he could never settle his own guilt in the matter. As royalty, one choice can make enemies and friends alike turn bleak in terror. It's strange... that one man should have had so much power. He still did good with it in my book, and that's where I should leave the subject. You yourself have all chances to change, Sumia. To grow stronger."

Marth turned slightly solemn. Talking about himself in third person... maybe "the Marth" was the new thing? No, Vaike was a ditz when it came to inspiration...

"Marth... you have them, too. You don't see it, but people care. Chrom is harsh, but it's because he wants improvement. I'm afraid he gave up on you... and you can't speak against him. It's too bad..." Sumia said, turning in her seat. "You weapon cards were living beings once, and you know what? As much as I like Chrom, his decision can shove itself off a cliff! I respect you... just... thank you for listening." She said quickly, and went out of the kitchen. Marth stared after her. Was she blushing for a second back there? ...No, he imagined it. Jeigan's voice could be heard in his memories.

_"Young Master Marth... there comes a time in each man's life when he must make a great choice. My love is for the battlefield, yet it was not always such. You still need time, though... distracting yourself with girls when you should first be a competent ruler is foolish. And... you heard nothing of what I said, right? DAMN IT, MARTH! The King would dock my pay and lock me up if I failed in your teaching, so... STOP STARING AT THOSE WOMEN! Ladies, I'm so sorry, I... what do you think you're doing? Reaching out your tongue at me, Marth?! Come here, kid! I'll rough you up, no matter your lineage!"_

Marth chuckled. Jeigan had been like Frederick. Severe, but good at heart. Always pushing for better, and letting himself come second. Marth realized something. He didn't have to train to become royalty anymore. That was behind him, much as he missed it. He was truly free, once this was over! But no... Old Hubba would find him and shut down his memories, back to the point where he was an unaware simpleton stuck in Marth's teens. Chrom would make sure of it soon... no liability to the mission should be left unchecked. Was there no way to stay like this? Despite the terror and pain, he had grown fond of expanding beyond a mere memory...

"And all to do now is figure out what the heck people ate with. These plates look like they've been dipped in sh- ...um, I thought you left." He said, embarrassed by his nearly foul statement.

Sumia had remembered a plate she hadn't turned in to the dishes, and returned with it. "I... forgot this." She smiled, also embarrassed, and dropped the plate in the tub of soap water next to Marth. "Want help? I'm not good at this, like Chiki, but I can help so you can enjoy the weather sooner. You know, alone... or with company."

Without his consent, she started dealing with the dishes alongside him, absently staring at the dish brush while she worked.

"...Why not? It's a fine day. No need to waste it!" Marth agreed, and started scrubbing more intensely.

Meanwhile, skirmishes had broken out between the armies. On the western flank Chrom was holding his own against a company of wyvern riders. They were weak to the dragon-slaying magic hidden in the holy Falchion, and their riders fared ill too. The others in the company were also doing well, paired up to counter strikes, and deliver double damage, moving alongside as one unit across the battlefield. Stahl was fully healed, and did fearfully well paired with Miriel, who's magic augmented his resistance to enemy mages, allowing him to ride them down. While the western side took little more than wounded casualties, the eastern saw many regular Ylissean soldiers fall, and several more skilled elite units were hurt by a bombardment of enemy javelins. Not to mention more mages had been sent with that half of the Plegian force. All in all, it was good that Robin could pair up with those in trouble, being a mage himself, and raise their strengths.

"ROBIN! Damn, pal, they're tearing new holes in our backsides!" Roy shouted from behind a large rock, just as it got hit by a spell from the other side. Dust swirled around the forces in hiding. "We've lost a quarter of our infantry! And our closest friends are getting beat down! We'll lose them all if we don't regroup!"

"Where to? This forest is getting cut down by wind mages! I got a scar on my thigh to prove it!" Robin shouted back from behind a tree close by the rock. "We need more magic users! Or Pegasus knights! Thank the gods Cordelia is with us..."

Cordelia soared through the skies, striking down at the enemy mages, since her resistance meant she could shrug off much magic. That was a thing with all Pegasus knights. Her speed meant she could avoid arrows deftly, too. Robin emerged from behind the rock, casting a bolt of lightning at the hapless footmen of Plegia. Their lances and swords were useless against a primal force of nature, which was created by using the energy around mages, and putting it through a medium of control, namely a tome. Without one, most mages couldn't even light a candle with their hands. Though with their own mages tossing cutting winds, searing flames and lightning bolts from behind, the Plegians were confident, and pushed the line back towards the camp of Ylisse. The western conflict was won, and now that group hurried through the small forest to support the east. Frederick's cavaliers had successfully burnt all the tents and stolen the equipment of the enemy army. Only a force of ten remained as guard near the Plegian forest camp, and surrendered swiftly, with two dead. Now Frederick took his best men with him to strike from behind. The eastern force of Plegians was winning, though, and held a few captives... including Robin. When the Ylisseans reached the remainder of their friends they would have a bargain on their hands... a grim one.

"Chrom... I failed you. I failed you all..." Robin said, defeated with a sword against his throat.

"Keep them here. We haven't slain any of the elite units, just the rabble infantry. That may change, though..." A very tall man dressed in black, with brown, grey-shot hair and a healed gash across his face's left side said. "Ylisse... you fools. Prince Chrom will lead you to die in his vain bout of resistance. He is with the other group, right?" He asked Robin stiffly. The tactician did not answer, only giving a bitter glare in return. "Answer me." The tall man said, smacking a glove with iron knuckles into Robin's stomach. The Plegian was so calm, it frightened the young commander. Wasn't he torn with grief after seeing his beloved friend and mount die? "Feh!" He spat before Robin. "Let them come. No matter what, my career is over. I simply intend to drag you all into hell with me... oh, and your camp may be fit to burn, if I win here... perhaps sooner."

Robin ignored his pain and thought in panic of what protected the camp. Marth and Sumia, plus some regular soldiers. Not enough if a force had been sent in secret to destroy their camp. "Marth... please hold it together."

Marth was oblivious to the plan, and sat down, wiping his brow after washing so many dishes. He and Sumia then went outside, casually checking up on the regular soldiers standing guard at the entrance to camp. They then sat down at the mess table, alone.

"Well, those plates really got it handed to them! The best part is, I have to do it all over again this evening!" Marth said with fake frustration, tossing his hands up. "This went by pretty fast, though. Thanks."

"No need. You saved my life, and all I do is wash dishes in return? Seems like a fair trade for your heroics. If you're lazy!" Sumia snickered. "...What was it like, by the way? I mean, the life of a hero."

"Oh, that. I was seen as a hero after the war in Akaneia. Parades, fancy dinners, boring speeches, more parades, a ball dance with puffed-up old noblewomen... did I mention the wedding cake? A five-stories tall cake with me and Sheeda's custom-ordered figurines on top... or, HIM and Sheeda. It was delicious..." Marth trailed off.

Sheeda. That woman he had never met, but remembered so vividly. Her luscious blue hair, cute figure and... her smile. Like a ray of warmth, of pure sunlight. Eyes like-

"Are you okay? You zoned out there..." Sumia said, curious.

"Eyes like that! Exactly like yo-... um, yes, I was gone for a moment. Sorry." Marth stopped himself. Sumia... insecure, good with animals, and gentle with friends. A death-bringer on the battlefield. And one who struggled valiantly to be able to assist her fellow fighters. Marth could see so much that was similar. Sumia was like Sheeda... but very much alive, and more real than a distant memory. She had a Pegasus. And she was cute. That still did NOT mean he would confess his flaming loins in front of anyone ever again. Stupid Vaike...

"What's up? You're... staring." She blushed, and turned away. She didn't mind it really, though.

"I'm just thinking... you are so similar to... did you know of Queen Sheeda?"

"Yes! Of course, her painting can be seen in the Ylissean Rider's Academy. It's ancient, but she was beautiful, and also developed a few strategies that her husband put to good use when sending out Pegasi regiments in battle... I remind you of her? I... I'm flattered."

"I see her grace in you, when you fly. When you stumble, that's like Sheeda used to do when she had just joined Marth's army and fought on the ground! And your face... it's not that similar. But it's by all means very good-looking!" He said, hoping to not have offended.

Sumia looked very flushed now. "I... also like to read. Don't tell me..."

"Sheeda loved books. But only because Marth showed her the true splendor of literature... would you like to borrow one of mine?" He said, noticing he was flushed too. Even a tiny bit feverish. He remembered something wrong as well in his current state, because Sheeda had opened HIM up to books long ago, not the other way around. "I-I have a book about the wonders of algebraic theorems... um, from Miriel. It's like chewing the leather sole off a boot when I read it..."

Sumia laughed out loud. It was a sweet sound. "No thanks. But I can let you have a book of mine. It's called-"

Just then a slashing sound was heard. Running up to the entrance of camp they saw a man gurgle blood, a deep cut across his throat. He and the other guards were dead or dying. It was the Plegian saboteurs, ready to assassinate and burn. There weren't many, but they were Assassins. Masters of killing silently, without notice.

"Gods..." Sumia said, horrified. She couldn't fight now, with her wound still healing. Marth was all left between the enemy... and his home. This camp was ragged and dull, smelly too, but he'd slice up any Plegians foolish enough to damage it.

The assassins were speeding around, dropping torches on the tents before setting their sights on Marth and Sumia. What lay before the Hero's eyes was a burning nightmare, and in the middle were four robed individuals, with long curved knives, marching almost on air towards their targets.

"No... the fire!" Marth exclaimed. The camp's provisions and people's belongings were touched by flame almost instantly. "Like Castle Altea... burning... the cries... my sister... never again... NEVER AGAIN!" He cried, raising his hands, and conjuring up a strange light. It seeped into everything in camp, and after only seconds, it was all untouched by flames. The assassins looked in wonder at the King, uncertain of what to do.

"Marth..." Sumia said in awe.

"I am not a king, nor a hero. I am a spirit, one who will haunt your dreams evermore, if you flee with your lives. Dogs of war... be leashed, lest thy hides mean something to thee!"

His voice was mighty, but did not convince the assassins. This was a mage, and his mind tricks would not fool them, they thought. They rushed, all of them aiming to cripple, and then kill. Marth smirked.

"Sumia... stand aside."

She quickly complied, running and staying with her back against the tree near the camp entrance, looking around warily, but returning to Marth often with her gaze.

He was fast, so fast that the assassins seemed to drop at a pace impossible. Two of them fell dead, slain by a steel sword. Marth had picked it up from the dead Ylissean guard in a flash. Another assassin spun into a flurry of strikes, trying to unnerve Marth. The King only struck twice, once to break the flurry, cutting the hand off of the shadowy man, and then again, sending his head flying as he was about to yell in pain. The last one had dodged his magical slashes, and swore.

"What in the name of the Fell Dragon... think you're something, huh?! I'll finish you!" The assassin said, gracefully moving, aiming for Marth's neck. Marth sped forth as well, and their blades met. The spirit dodged a slash by ducking, then countered by pummeling his sword hilt into the man's stomach, then grazing his chest, and tripping him, kicking away his sword. The man crawled back up against a tent pole. His face was showing, and it held a professional calmness mixed with contempt.

"Murdering scum... you've claimed more lives than you should. Join your brothers in DEATH." Marth spoke, sounding colder than ice. This change... Sumia was frightened. It wasn't like the time with Stahl... this was fully intentional.

"Is this it, then?" The assassin said. "Well, my line of work meant I could run into a foe that got the better of me. It's just disappointing, is all. I don't care for Plegia's king or his mad cravings. My only regret is that I leave my family at his wicked mercy. My wife... my son... he deserves better, but if I'm all he has for a father, then I don't want to let him down again... I am no liar.

The last words were spoken with a steel gaze. The man was serious.

"Take my blade. Sell it, melt it... Just... for someone else's sake, let me walk out." The man was sweating slightly, starting to show only a flicker of fear in his eyes, sitting at Marth's mercy. "What on earth is he? A true spirit? And from the looks of it... Marth, the Hero-King? A living legend from my childhood sagas?" He thought, tensing up, looking for an escape.

Marth did not buckle. His blade leaned closer to the man.

"Ugh... if you would kill me... tell my boy one thing... that he means the world to me."

Marth moved closer, ready to strike. He glowed around his entire frame, ice blue. The assassin realized there was no way out.

"Promise me, sir."

Now was the time. This wretch would go down. But... a promise?

"...What is his name?"

"Hessell. That's his name. He lives outside the Plegian capital, on a small farm with his mother, Enila."

Marth hesitated.

"...I promise, then. I never let anyone down... not even my enemies."

The man's gaze became relaxed, with a careful smile spreading across his face. He was content.

Marth looked once at Sumia. She was aghast at this, the striking down of a defenseless person. Though his crimes were grave... that look in the girl's eyes was so convincing. The real Marth valued life, and would never spill blood unnecessarily.

"I guess I'm not him... like I've said." Marth thought. Yet that look on her had an effect... had he been MAD? Marth's values WERE his own. The ones he had always known.

He lowered his sword. The man was not expecting this, and looked up. Would he get to live? Marth then kicked the man, hard in the chest. He lay down on the ground, grunting. The spirit then took the assassin's blade.

"So it is decided. Go in peace. That kick serves as your final warning. Marth was a man of mercy... but SOME example must be set in these hard times. I pray you find your family alive... and never run across me again. For your sake."

The assassin got up, looking the Einherjar in the eyes. He could see only sadness there. "I will always remember this, sir knight. It's like he's here... Hero-King Marth. But that's impossible... I'm dreaming..."

The man threw a small flash-bang device down, and was gone, swiftly jogging towards Plegia. He was alive, just lightly beat up, and he would never leave his family again, no matter if the Mad King's corrupt state of rule threatened to kill them all for disobedience. He would not budge. Life was too short to always obey others.

Marth sunk down on the ground, whatever force had kept him going dissipating. Sumia ran to his side, holding up his head in her lap.

"You really... are Sheeda... right?" He said, unfocused. "Marth was so... lucky..."

He fell asleep. Sumia could not bear to move, and sat there, waiting for the army to come back. "Your choice... you ARE a hero, Marth... I believe it." She said, looking at the clouded sun passing by slowly. Rain was coming.

Author Note:

I was wondering if anyone would like to see more Einherjar. They may appear, though not in droves. It's just that a few people suggested some of them to me, ones I hadn't considered, and I'll have to sandwich in new chapters for that, since I'm slowly editing and publishing an already completed story. Who knows, maybe Lyndis or Ike will show up down the line. No promises. I've had thoughts of sequels where stuff might fit in, though...


	10. Ch 9: Terror Wind and the Young Lion

Chapter 9: Terror Wind and the Young Lion

Both the rear cavalry and western footmen had arrived to face the last Plegians. But seeing that they held hostages, Chrom and Frederick were at a loss. Especially when they saw Robin.

"Hounds of Ylisse! I stand with your friends in my grip. Commander Bernley is my name... and I seek a trade. Free passage for myself and my men, in return for your little bug-eyed pals." Bernley said coldly. He held no doubt he would die this day, even if his army escaped, and so kept up deception for a while longer, only by necessity. His assassins were through with the camp by now, and could emerge to slay Chrom, Frederick and the other leaders before the fools knew better. They'd all lose... perfect, he thought with finality.

Roy was standing next to Chrom, seeing the surrounded Plegians and their hostages. The enemy force was down to a few dozen men, but the situation was fragile. One false move... and the rain falling didn't help either.

"Damn... Robin could die at any time... I have to do something... what would the real Roy do?" The spirit thought. "...Forget him. I AM Roy, as far as I care. And I'll let it stay that way. Now, he would convene with friends. But there's no time! Ugh... wish Marth was here. He could keep calm in battle... at least before. I may not have the Sword of Seals, but I'm not about to slay a dragon this time... just a very hateful man. Wait... I can do THAT! That thing Lilina always thought I lacked brains because of! A big-"

"DUEL! I challenge you, Bernley, commander of Plegia! You partly share a name with the nation I once opposed, and gives me even greater reason to duel you! Erm, that's a valid reason, right?" Roy said loudly, not knowing the response he would get.

"Roy! What do you think you're doing?" Chrom said through gritted teeth. "We wish for no bloodshed anymore. Standing down would save us all a lot of horrid memories of death."

"Your request is honorable... but then, I lost all semblance of honor long ago..." Bernley said in return, dragging his hand across his neck. The signal led one Plegian to slice the neck of an Ylisse foot soldier held captive. That man held his throat, looking pleadingly at Chrom, before dropping dead. "I made my demands. Now... do you risk it? We will let these sods go when we reach the mountain villages. Then they can scurry back into your protective embrace, milord." He sneered coldly.

"I will have your head, Bernley!" Chrom said, raising the Falchion, his face twisted. But Roy held his shoulder, pushing him back.

"No honor, huh? Is that why you impolitely ignored my request, Bernley? A duel. One of us dies, the other lives. If I win, we get the hostages, and your men are prisoners. If you win, you can go along with your vain plan to reach the mountains, probably killing my friends all the same. What say you... commander?"

Roy looked completely serious. And Chrom grasped it at last. The spirit wanted a true challenge, to see if his doubts could be completely erased, and so his existence was finally proven reliable. Still, Roy did it more for his friends than anything else.

"...Heh. Alright. I guess this is where it ends for one of us... little boy." Bernley said, and drew a large lance. It could swiftly outmaneuver swordsmen and strike from several arm lengths away. He had been trained a lance man with his wyvern, and retained his skill. Roy was no pushover, though, and intended to prove it. He walked into the paused battle's center, drawing his iron sword. When Bernley stepped into the clearing, filled with cut trees and corpses, Roy suddenly felt like his idea was very bad. Sinewy, strong muscles dwelled underneath the black and red armor of the former Wyvern knight. His lance spun viciously before him. A man with no desire other than the destruction of as much as possible before his demise... had his Wyvern meant that much, enough to shatter his mind?

"Roy, was it? A fine name... under other circumstances. Here it will be remembered for the little child with a stick standing up against me, the Terror Wind... and dying!"

With those words, Bernley charged, and Roy was just barely fast enough to duck, block once, and roll out of the way. A series of quick stabs were countered only partly, and Roy's armor pads missed blocking some strikes, which made glowing cuts appear through his shirt. He ran around with his eyes on the lance, ducking over and over again. The former rider surprisingly switched his grip very fast, and used the lance's dull end to poke Roy in the face, hitting an eyeball. He yelled in pain as it swelled up, magical energy vessels bursting. He didn't stop, only holding a hand on it for a moment, and then slicing off a bit of the lance.

"He's getting beat up! Bernley has a lance, Roy is at a disadvantage!" Stahl said, concerned. He had really grown fond of the Einherjar spirits. Speaking of which, Eirika and a few other summoned warriors watched tensely. The blue-haired Princess of Renais bit her lip, nervously watching the progress of the fight. All that effort Roy had put into making her feel welcome... he was such a good friend. If he died, she would not hesitate to slay the wretched man who claimed victory in Roy's stead. Though she was not disillusioned yet, aware like Marth and Roy. Gods knew too well the spirit of Pherae's Marquess would not wish that on her kind soul. Right now, he wished for a miracle.

"Stand in place, and let me claim victory! I expected MY death by some means, but if the gods will let me live this easily, I'll take it! Bathe in BLOOD!" He yelled, slashing in a wide arc, hitting Roy's shoulder. A deep cut was seen by the spectators, and Roy felt dizzy. His summoned body could take only so much before reverting into a card... unless it died altogether. He had never been beaten to such a point, but... he didn't like the risk. He slashed back at the lance, forced it away, and jumped a short distance to close the gap between them, hindering good lance movement. It worked, and Roy chipped away at the tough armor of the commander inside his dead angle. Eventually a wound appeared, bleeding little, but at a fast rate. Bernley knocked Roy aside, backing off to increase distance again. Now he flew forward, thrusting down to pierce Roy's skull. The boy was hit with a glancing blow to the cheek when he evaded by rolling. He found himself looking at the lower midsection of the man, and kicked up, into his crotch. No comical grab of "family jewels" occurred, since Bernley cared little for pain, mostly having it in his mind. He kicked back down, and Roy lost his breath, only striking once at the commander's shins. It did nothing. Instead of slicing him open with the lance, Bernley grabbed Roy by the throat, and held him up high. Punch after punch rained on the spirit, and now he felt exhausted, dropping the iron sword, wanting to end it... but not through surrender. He would stare into the soul of his opponent, and never beg for mercy. Ever.

"Giving up? Strength run out? I'm barely warmed up..." Bernley mocked, though with a straight face. "It was a decent duel... reminded me of my young days... when honor meant something."

Virion had put an arrow to his bow, infuriated by this barbarous madman. Sully reached a hand out to stop his shot. "Ruffles... Roy is acting with honor, and all that crap. Stand down for now. If the kid dies... aim for the Plegian shithead's heart." She spoke with an acid glance at Bernley.

"B-Bernley... you fight like someone who values his allies AND foes... I-I saw such strength in many of my friends long ago... why did you lose your way?" Roy said painfully. He maybe should have never fought against this man... his life was near forfeit... for nothing.

"I'll give you a sob story, kid. Before your eternal bedtime... I was a knight. Riding my wyvern without a problem in the world, serving a cause I cared for. We Plegians always wanted revenge on Ylisse after Chrom's father massacred both our peoples in his stupid attempt at power, draining the land. But somewhere along the way, I stopped caring. Because no one cared for us, the common soldiers. They grew to lack discipline as I got older, simple bandits with Plegia's banner waving behind them. It all got uglier, and my only remaining friend was my mount. A tough old beast, with nasty temper as well. But it was better than nothing. At least he was loyal. And then simply gone. A damned rock slide. I was broken down, in many ways. Barely alive in that infirmary, and that... was when I TRULY lost it. I'm mad, they say... I'm a monster, they say. I slew my own men when they just tried reasoning... such is the case, when a man loses his care for everything."

Bernley's eyes were glazed over during this conversation, and his hand trembled a bit, shaking Roy's head. There was no remorse, no holding back. That's what he felt, the Terror Wind. Roy had pity... but that would not stop this man from crushing his throat anytime now.

"I don't want pity. I want nothing but death. You disappointed me, sir Roy... better you die, like the unskilled brat you are!"

Roy's memories flashed before the spirit's eyes. He had been picked on, his father had been harsh in sword training, and only in the latter part of his journeys had he become strong enough to match his allies. It felt like some had pitied him for his weak growth... but never disrespected him for it. This man, a stranger, had the nerve to insult him, the "Young Lion" of Elibe, who always fought on, even if his life seemed empty. Especially now, when he wasn't even the real thing, THAT Roy. But that was a moot point. The Roy he once was, and all of his friends, would be ashamed if his spirit thought only of his own needs. No... he had friends, and he would die for them... but right now, he needed to live!

"Let me go. I'm not done yet." Roy said with his eyes to the ground, hanging limply in Bernley's vice grip.

"...What are you, a fool? You are spent. Now your neck will be dust."

The grip tightened. The Shepherds were appalled, but could not intervene in a duel of honor. Not until the death of one combatant.

"I said..." Roy whispered, grabbing Bernley's arm suddenly. The commander raised an eyebrow. "I'm not done. You wish to die so bad... have your wish. For the Young Lion of Pherae will not roar in defeat!"

Roy then broke the hand of his opponent, snapping the wrist and sliding out of its grasp, grabbing his sword with great speed and striking the blade across the chest, then up into the gullet of Bernley, who was shocked. He sat down on his knees before Roy, who withdrew his blade from the man's stomach. They both looked very impressed.

"I didn't think I had that power..." Roy said, glowing blue around his body. Then his eyes turned to the former Wyvern knight.

"Pflugh!" He spat, coughing once. "I let down my guard... and look here. My prize. Almost there... my friend... my family... the honor years... as my blood goes, they step back into me... you're something, Roy... and weak ain't it." Bernley laughed clearly, falling forward with a pleased smirk.

Everything was silent. The Shepherds moved slowly towards the hostages, freeing them without struggle. The Plegians had heard their commander's entire speech, and were out of courage. They lay down their arms in surrender.

"Roy! That was something else!" Robin said. "Yes, I'm fine. Most of us are, thanks to our healers. Lissa's at it now, and Maribelle is tending to Lon'qu. That look in the guy's eyes was enough to make some Plegians flee, but he got a pretty bad cut still." He said. "What was your power, there? I've never heard of such a thing."

"The Einherjar have a mechanism that allows them to give off one massive surge of energy when hard pressed." Chiki said, walking up to check Roy. "Yours was timely. Well used, Roy." She complimented. "You're living up well to our hopes."

"But don't pull a stupid stunt again in a while. It makes things SO on edge." Robin joked, and patted his friend's shoulder.

"Yeah... not for a while. Has anyone seen Ei-"

"Sir Roy! You had me worried!" Eirika said, running up to the boy spirit. "Please be more careful! Your face is... a mess!" She said, fussing about his visage with a vulnerary she had snatched from Lissa's medical bag. "Better! You remind me of my brother... such recklessness."

"Well, that's a compliment, I take it?" Roy said nervously.

"Of course. But don't overdo it, ever again." She pointed, making her wishes clear. She then hugged him. "You men are so alike... weirdos."

Roy's face turned beetroot red. Lon'qu turned the same when Maribelle touched his wounds. What one thought was embarrassing, the other considered heaven. Namely the Pheraean boy.

"Hum-hum-hum-humina humina..." He thought, unable to gather his thoughts into language. Eirika couldn't see his expression, and just as well. Robin and Stahl hid their faces, snorting loudly out of humor.

The bodies of the fallen were buried properly, and Chrom held a speech of grieving. The captives were bound up, and the whole force headed back to camp, seeing the scene with the dead assassins, Sumia, and a resting Marth on her lap. Somehow, Chrom knew Marth hadn't messed up this time. He sighed in relief, and finally let Marth be carried away and have his bed back, eager for an explanation of what happened, the following day.

Author Note:

And so I gave Roy a serious role, for a change. I mean, he's one of the most trash-talked Lords in the series, so I figured, why not let him shine a bit? Despite being a counter-weight to Marth's seriousness and tactfulness, I didn't like having him be part of the comic relief EVERY chapter. Hope some of you agree with this choice.

Next chapter will take some thought, but I've really published quite a bit this week. See you in the next new entry!


	11. Ch 10: Radiant willfulness

Author Note:

Okay... new chapter... here goes nothing! Enjoy! Also, I called it "Radiant confidence, unbroken" first, but I changed it quickly. If that sounds better, I'll switch it back.

Chapter 10: Radiant willfulness

"Hunh! Egh! SREEEARGH!"

The sword hit a practice dummy several times with such force, it eventually flew off the pole it was firmly attached to.

"Let's see here... ah. No nicks, just a few scrapes. Nothing too bad."

The young man inspected his silver sword on the training grounds. Taking care of his equipment was a must in the army. Walking off to the camp larders soon after, the man felt like eating. Despite having a strong love for food, especially the spicy kind, he burnt all calories he put on very fast, through daily training with the blade. This training session, along with the recent fight had also drained a bit of energy. Plegians... they'd better pray to not get in his way at dinner.

"Urgh... easy there, old melting pot." He said, and patted his muscular stomach. It didn't growl, but he imagined it did. It was all part of the deception, to keep the spirit from doubt. He was indeed an Einherjar. "What to pick? It's a damn shame King Marth is out of the count. Now I have to get some cold meat cuts instead..."

Ike, the "Hero of Blue Flames" from Tellius, had just joined the Shepherds. Chrom had gotten his card from the Outrealms a while back, but not summoned him until recently. The prince explained a long line of things to him before he got his own tent and equipment. "So, warriors from many worlds have been recruited here, eh? An army of diverse people... feels just like home. It's weird that some of them are apparently... ghosts, though. Marth, Roy... what about the others? Einherjar... that name rolls strange on my tongue. Better find something else to put there, then!"

He entered, and rummaged around in the newly dug cold storage, finding chicken legs and some salted pork. "No one's gonna mind if a few go missing..."

"Oh, really, Ike?" An annoyingly familiar voice said. "Guess Sothe misjudged you way back. You ARE just a low-class troublemaker."

"Micaiah, stop bugging me. I thought I left you back in Tellius. Why are you here?" Ike said, having already shoved a piece of pork into his mouth.

"Same as you. Recruited by Chrom, but only after they fought someone who looked suspiciously like YOU."

"WHAT?! Don't talk nonsense. I've just come here."

Micaiah, the youthful Priestess of Dawn and 15th Queen of Daein, stood with her arms crossed. Just as well, since Ike noticed she was scantily clad in a shaded outfit similar to Tharja's. He turned away embarrassedly when she lifted her arms again, revealing an... indiscreet cleavage. Also, her hair was silvery white, and despite her treatment of Ike, she was a very caring individual.

"Dear gods, put a shirt on, woman." He said, felling a sweat drop.

"I won't. It's comfy. Just avoid staring! And furthermore, I'm positive it was you we fought in the Outrealms, when I was recruited."

"Yeah. Nice. Let me go have my dinner in peace, thanks." Ike waved dismissively, and stepped past her outside with a filled plate. She let out a sound which meant he'd pay for his lack of attention one day. "Just because of some past misunderstandings she hates me... And I don't think I have clones, so she's lying. Clearly."

Ike had rough, blue hair. Around his head he wore a red-brown headband that swayed in the wind. A red cape, light metal pads on his shoulders, a blue shirt and white pants completed his image: that of a young warrior who didn't take no for an answer. Either that, or he didn't care about his looks too much... "This is pretty good. Could have used more spices." He said, chewing away at a chicken leg. The pork was already gone while he walked towards a maple tree near the command tent, intending to sit by it. "Because who honestly needs mess tables?"

As he sat down, he started thinking of how his friends were doing. He'd left them to search for new lands, and he'd found one such now. Sure, Mist, Boyd, Soren and everyone were on his mind constantly, but he could be without them for a while. One day, he'd return home, he thought. But it still felt weird, since he had no memories of what happened after he left the Tellian continent. All of a sudden, he'd woken up here, and not really questioned it. He didn't know it himself, but this Ike card had no memories past his defeat of the goddess Ashera. His card's image looked 18 years of age, but not quite as visibly muscular as the real Ike had been.

"On the plus side, there's no more wicked goddesses. And no... Black Knight." He paused, putting the chicken down.

_"Let's see how you handle this!"_

_The Black Knight walked up menacingly to the young swordsman, and swung Alondite. In response, Ike blocked with Ragnell, its sister sword. Striking again, the Knight inflicted a deep cut on Ike's chest. The duel was fierce. Ike intended to best this man once and for all, no holds barred. He, the son of Gawain, would not back out. His dodges barely worked, and the Knight smirked in his massive, blessed suit of armor. Knowing how much he and his friends had suffered up until this point, Ike struck out. Ragnell tore through the enemy's armor. Both of them stood back, breathing heavily with great wounds._

_"Your father's power... it pulses through you. But I am not finished yet!" Zelgius, the Black Knight said, and moved up again. This blow could very well finish Ike._

_Instead, the young mercenary leader activated his fearsome Aether skill, and countered the blow, tossing his sword up, jumping after it, only to come crashing down with the sacred edge through Zelgius's chest. He withdrew his sword, and jumped back. Zelgius's skill Nihil should have negated the activation of Ike's own power, but the indomitable will of the young merc led him beyond such restrictions this once, at a cost of nearly all his remaining strength._

_"Impressive! Most impressive!" The Knight said, stumbling back towards a nearby wall. He slid down it, sitting in defeat. "You are stronger... much stronger than before..."_

_"I have you to thank for that. I grew stronger through our previous fight..."_

Ike reminisced that moment. He had struggled hard to beat the foe he thought dead three years earlier. And in the end, he had been the stronger. "To owe something to an enemy... heh. Only thing to do now is get even stronger. For their sake..." He thought regarding his old friends and newfound allies. He hadn't really talked to anyone in camp yet, gotten to know them. He figured he could do that now that his training was over for the day, and-

"What does it take to clean this?" A young voice said irritatedly behind the tree. Ike's thoughts were disrupted, but he ignored it.

Roy had sat down behind the maple, smelling Marth's half-ready dinner he would never get to eat from the kitchen tent. He didn't know what had happened to the King, only that he had somehow defended camp from an attack, according to Sumia. That same blue glow and power he had felt had been used by Marth, as well.

"Lucky us for that power, I suppose." He thought, wiping his iron sword clean of crusted blood. The sun was still clouded, but the rain had ceased. Loud moanings were heard from the wounded troops being carried to the medical tent. "Bernley... what a strange guy he was. Wonder how he would have been if his mount had lived... ah, well. I shouldn't think too hard about it!" Roy said, and put his sword back in its sheath. Just as he did, he heard a crunch. Looking around the maple, he saw Ike eating even the bone of a chicken leg.

Ike looked back at Roy, and raised an eyebrow. The Pheraean spirit looked like it was a major holiday celebration, holding his hands up to his mouth. The blue-haired warrior looked at him with confusion, and was uncomfortable. "...Cut that act, it's creeping me o-"

"AWESOOOOME!" Roy said with a whistle, eyeballing the man. "So cool. It's scruffy, yet comfortable-looking. And the headband is a nice touch. I think I have my new image! I'm gonna be just like you, sir!" He said, looking brightly at the other young man's face.

"Uhh... riiight. You know, I think you're overreacting." Ike said, looking bothered. "Looks like we have a simpleton..." He thought.

"Nuh-uh. That look could scare the pants off a Plegian if you met one in a dark alley. It's perfect for someone like me, who needs more confidence! ...Do you really stalk people in dark alleys?"

"HUH? Look, you claim that I do, not me! What is your problem, kid? Acting all pesky, like Micaiah. Yeesh, that woman... and to top it off, I met her in this camp, as well." Ike exclaimed, looking insulted.

"Well, sorry. Don't you like admirers?" Roy asked. The glare he received in return was answer enough.

"I'm just enjoying a break. That fight back there was intense, and I need my strength. By the way, I suppose it was good work on that Plegian commander. Honor and power 'til the end, right there." He said, biting off a large chunk from another chicken leg. "You may not need to change your outward appearance if you swing a sword that well."

"You think so? Thanks, that's good praise..." Roy said, scratching the back of his head.

"Sir Roy! I found us some food!" Princess Eirika yelled from a distance, running up to Roy with a plate of sausages and beef cutlets with bone. She paused before him, sitting down as well. "Libra was nice enough to dig something up from the larders for us, since there won't be a warm dinner tonight. Hope it's good!"She said with a cheery face, eyes playfully narrowed and mouth smiling. Roy wasn't ever hungry, being a card, but why not eat in such pleasant company, he concluded. He reached for the plate, but found it gone. Right next to Ike now lay two empty plates, licked clean. He leaned back onto the tree, sighing in contention while holding a final chicken leg. Then he jolted up, looking at Eirika.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me!" He excused. "Sometimes food just slips in without me knowing I'm eating! I've a... radiant appetite!"

"Did you just... eat the bones, as well? And so FAST!" Eirika asked with big eyes. "But, that was for me and Roy. I guess I can get more, but still..."

"Eirika. Let me handle this." Roy said, and stood up, walking over to the young merc. He spoke silently.

"Did you really NOT mean to eat those? I figure you saw that second plate, and you just thought: "MMMM! Look at the succulent pieces of food there, in the hands of a beautiful lady!" Oh, no! I bet you wanted a piece of HER too, right?! Well, forget it!" Roy yelled out.

Ike was not amused, and decided to stand up. "...Are you that presumptuous? Look, I was as naive as you once, but I can assure you that I didn't even ONCE try to leer at your girlfr-"

The blue-haired man went down from a punch, and dropped the chicken leg. A hawk swooped by to pick it up, flying away. The warrior's face was annoyed for a moment, and his eyes looked like they screamed: GODS, WHY?!, when they looked at the ever-shrinking shape of the hawk in the distance. Roy smiled, furious. He hadn't felt this angry in a while. He was mistaken, of course, but now there was no other way to calm him than by beating the sense back into him. Ike saw that, getting up slowly and brushing off his shirt. His sharp eyes met Roy's, and the fists of the red-headed Marquess loosened a bit from uncertainty.

"Now you've done it. I hate senseless fighting, but you just presumed the wrong stuff, AND took away my dinner. You. Don't. Do. That. Ever." He said, brushing through his hair once, and then coming at Roy with a forward punch. It connected with the boy spirit's jaw, and then his stomach, sending him flying a few feet away. He landed on his bum, groaning. Yet another silly fight he'd gotten himself into, it seemed. "Better you calm down now, and I won't have to send you back to your tent in a matchbox."

"Let's be civil. I'm not going to LOOK, A PIECE OF VENISON!" Roy exclaimed, rushing up with a vengeance.

"WHERE?! I'll take my chances with this one!" The head-banded warrior said, looking around, eventually facing Roy's fist straight on with a smack to his own face. "Ouch... so you can stick it to a person without a sword, huh? Let me teach you a few more things, you red punk."

Both of them flew at each other, opposite fists raised. Just when they were about to pummel each other's faces in, however...

A fierce sobbing was heard. Eirika cried out loud, begging them to stop. And they did, looking at her with concern and confusion.

The headband warrior and Roy suddenly lay on the ground twitching, soundly beaten with swelling bumps on their heads. Eirika didn't use her Einherjar surge, but she glowed, all right... a burning red. Her angry expression was convincing enough for them to lie still. Female mood swings were scary...

"Oogh... what ran me over? That felt like a thousand Black Knights hitting me with the hilt end of Alondite... while that fat douche Oliver sings songs about beauty... ah, cripes." Ike said weakly.

"You think that's the worst she can do? I hope so..." Roy said very quietly.

"MEN! Seriously, you wouldn't live long without women like me!" Eirika exclaimed, looking painfully frustrated. "I'm usually gentle, but that required my intervention! Calm down!"

"I think we'd live longer, actually..." Ike pointed out, and was punched again.

"Do you want to die?! Shut up, or... GAH! Don't hit me!" Roy said, trying to compress himself into a protective ball on the ground. Eirika instead helped both of them up, very caringly. She was almost back to her regular self already.

"Now, sit here while I get a vulnerary. And BE GOOD." She let out very sharply, walking away huffily to Maribelle. Her eyes were teary, but none of the other two saw it.

Roy and Ike sat beside each other. They exchanged looks, and laughed shortly.

"Even though that plate was hers, I suppose you could have taken it IF YOU ASKED. She didn't seem hungry." Roy said through slightly swollen lips.

"Alright. Too bad that roast leg was lost. Damn you, unappetizing crap hawk." Ike said, shaking a fist at the sky in the hawk's general flying direction. He seemed to love food intensely, from the look in his sullen eyes...

"Man, it was just chicken. Let it go." Roy then realized how big of a hypocrite he was, since he started a fight over food minutes ago.

"Eh... I'm just messing around... yeah, that's it. Been too long since I could do that, what with the war in Crimea, and then defeating Ashera. Everything after that is a blank. I just came here, by the way."

He looked seriously yet friendly at Roy.

"Name's Ike, of the Greil Mercenaries. Chrom filled me in a little while ago on what's up. Undead soldiers and fanatical cultists... sounds like a fair challenge." Ike smiled confidently.

"Ike? Nice to meet you, milord!" Roy remembered Chrom speaking about bringing in new Einherjar. This must have been his latest choice. "You... almost got me real good back there."

"I could say likewise, but that woman bashed us down before we could really show our skills. Roy, is that your name? Not bad for a memory guy, or whatever Chrom meant when he explained this world to me. Oh, and I'm no lord. Just a simple mercenary who wants to get stronger. And, as you saw, I never back out of a worthy fight." He said with a fierce glance at Roy, which made the Lord tip over with fright. Ike smirked lightly. "Young Lion, eh? Try "Little Kitten" instead."

"Come on! I earned that title fair and square after my own war against oppression!" Roy said, standing up. "You want some more?" He threatened, jumping around with raised fists.

Ike also stood up, looking exasperated. "No. Calm down, we're allies. Let's be sensible. I only fight for my friends..." He said, turning dramatically against the light wind and afternoon sun, looking inspiringly heroic. This guy would get along nicely with Marth.

"And food."

It was like someone popped a balloon. This guy would get along nicely with Marth's sandwiches, more likely...

"You know that FOOD doesn't care if you save it, right?" Roy said. Ike looked very much brought down to earth, and turned stiffly, ridiculed.

"Well... bah. Never you mind. You don't understand."

"I understand... that you're a hopeless glutton." Roy thought with a supressed laugh. "I could use help understanding what to do in another matter, though. About Eirika..."

"Is she back? Let me find a suitable rock to whack her on the head wi-" Ike then had another bump added to his cranium. Signed Roy. "OW! I meant, if she gets violent again."

"You ingrate! She went to get medicine, she's not a lunatic. I guess she got scared and mad when we risked getting hurt. Eirika hates watching the soldiers come back like total messes... or not at all. I need to cool down... for her sake." Roy sighed, and slumped into a heap, lying on his back. "The past Roy was indeed never this easy to ignite with fury..."

"That's right. Stay cool, and you can see things more clearly. Avoid panicking at all costs. My pal Soren said that to me so many times... wonder how he's doing?" Ike wondered, scratching his chin. "It feels like ages since I last saw home... Tellius..."

Just then, the seal mechanism kicked in, and Ike forgot about the last few seconds. Roy felt sorry for him, but he couldn't just break another Einherjar like that, one he'd just met. Ike might make a worse deal out of it than even Marth, what with the pain that would come from it. Though about Eirika... he had wanted her to know. Somehow, keeping her ignorant seemed cruel... would he tell her someday?

Ike was reset, but weird, tiny blue crackles flew from his forehead, gone in an instant. Roy wondered what that could have been.

"You know, maybe I can still show you something, Roy. Pair up with me in the next battle, and I'll show you a way to swing your blade that doesn't use as much energy. I see you're wondering why I'm so eager to help you. Well... you remind me of my friend Boyd. He's of a headstrong, dense sort, but loyal to his comrades. No offense." Ike said, seeing that Roy didn't like the comparison. "And here comes the... slightly moody princess."

Eirika returned, and put the salve from the skin pouch on top of their bumps. She treated Ike a bit more roughly, which led him to believe she blamed it all on him. "Maybe Roy isn't the only dense and naive person around..." He thought. Unfortunately, out loud.

A quickly added bump rose from his head, but was treated swiftly. "D-Darn... I need to stop talking. I'm no good at it."

"There you go, Mr. Rude-And-Scruffy. Sorry for the outburst. I'm just tense right now..." She said, having finished with Ike after Roy. Now the Marquess was being dragged along to the Einherjar tents in her left hand. "Excuse us now, I must speak with my friend." She said to Ike. Roy would face a conversation about her concern when they arrived. Eirika simply didn't stand him getting into violence.

"See you around. And it's IKE!" He waved shortly, getting up. "What a day... I wonder where I put Ragnell... did I even have it when I came here? Ugh... something's out of place. I need to talk to someone..."

Ike began walking around camp, seeking to clear his head. He suddenly grabbed his stomach. "I feel sick all of a sudden... ulgh... was it the food? I can never digest bones without a fight, apparently."

The pain moved, from his midsection to his chest. The young merc coughed, and then wheezed. "What is... this?!" The final move of the pain was up into his head. Once again, his forehead crackled, and the spirit brain inside felt like it was on fire. Ike was in too much pain to scream, even. He fell, and shook violently on the ground, desperately massaging his temples. "Stop it... stop... stop stop stop STOOOOOOP!"

When he later awoke, he was still lying there. No one had found him, because he had fallen into a set of bushes on the outskirts of camp.

"It's like a Beast Laguz tore my scalp off..." He commented on the now subsiding pain, carefully feeling his body's reactions. He could move, breathe and think. It hadn't been an internal bleeding, from what Rhys, a healer had told him of medicine back home. So what could...?

"Lazying about?" Micaiah said, seeing his feet stick out of the bushes. With great effort, she pulled him out. His face was a blank. "Just like I expecte-"

"Please don't talk, Micaiah. I just had a revelation. That this is... it's..." Ike couldn't continue. Something flowed into his mind... an awareness that was just too foul to be true.

"What? ...You need to talk about something?" She asked, softening up just a tad. Ike stood up on unsteady legs, and looked at her.

"Micaiah... you don't know anything anymore. And neither do I." He said, walking past her again. The truth of the matter... he was annoyed by her, but the things he just learned could destroy her mind. That wasn't such a good thing, he figured. Better to shut his mouth.

"Like Roy and Marth... I'm a fake. That's how Micaiah's here, too. We're imprints. And the seal that Chrom mentioned... I had one. But it broke without any prompting. I didn't feel despair or sadness. I was just myself. What the hell..." He thought, keeping calm all the same.

A wave of emotions wanted to surface... grief for his (most likely) dead family and comrades. Anger, that he wasn't told long before. Confusion over why his seal was... weak. Did his maker put no effort into his work? Ike bit his lip so hard the magical energy veins appeared through the skin. So very sudden, all this... yet when he reached his tent and looked at the tiny, glowing bite wound on his lip through a small mirror, it was ultimately confirmed.

"I'm beyond death... but I don't remember a long life. Ever getting home. Seeing them all again. Ever marrying. Elincia... what became of you? Is it like the Hero-King and Roy... I only have my young years in me, but all my skills up until I died?" He speculated. "I've outlasted all my foes... and now, even time. But the cost isn't worth it!" He said, slamming his right hand into the mirror, shattering it. Rather than sad, he was now bitter. With his resolute, stoic personality, he decided to strike back at this turn of events. He would mock it with a smile, ignore the pain, and pretend in front of all he was still oblivious of being this... spirit. Awareness... the next great foe. Zelgius and his father could be proud of his strength... himself as well, he imagined. If he only knew that his new companions would have willingly supported him... but he picked the route of stubborn endurance instead.

"Just come at me, fate. You'll get no sympathy from me... I won't allow this disillusioning to break me completely." He promised, allowing himself to shed no tears, staring into the mirror shards on the ground. A promise which would be tested in the not too distant future...

Author Note:

If things seem slow-paced, remember: this is an angst/friendship story foremost, which is why it's centered on moods and feelings. More action scenes will come later, ones I've tried putting even more effort into.

Forgive me if this chapter seems a bit on the dry side, though. It's one of those I said I'd sandwich in somewhere. This marks Ike's entry, at least. Hope my treatment of his character was good! He hasn't truly put it all behind him like that so quickly, but he's still a strong, proud person. It also helped that Chrom explained the Einherjar to him while he wasn't broken, allowing an easier transition and understanding... if that's even possible. I'll rework the remaining chapters to fit him in, but he won't appear all the time.

Thanks to user Aleaster for suggesting Ike to join. Consider it a favor for all those nice reviews, and please keep them coming. I tried to do the character justice, even if I haven't played Path of Radiance or Radiant Dawn yet (so hard to find even USED discs of the previous one that doesn't cost over eighty dollars...). Oh, well. Maybe when they come to the Wii U virtual console...

Last thing. I read that Nihil negates all equipped combat skills, so in the flashback I guess I sort of made several Radiant Dawn fans angry and overjoyed at the same time for breaking game mechanics. Also, reading up further on the skills of the games, I noticed Nihil was originally named "Awareness" in earlier titles. So it's maybe ironic that Ike thinks "Awareness... the next great foe" near the end here. Just a thought...


	12. Ch 11: Another happy customer!

Chapter 11: Another happy customer!

Marth woke up, rested and alert. It felt like a pressure that had built up inside of him had been released... to good effect for all. He had his bed back, so Chrom wasn't very angry right now, hopefully. Wonder how long he would stay that way? The Hero went outside, and found the camp packing up, ready to move again. He quickly gathered his stuff onto a cart, and then went to the command tent, last to be taken down. Only Chrom was inside.

"Hello. Step in. I understand I have you to thank for not finding our tents burned down and for seeing Sumia unharmed. She spoke eagerly in your defense... almost talking me down to size." He said amusedly. "Your escapades have given you a life-long friend... which makes it all the harder to take it away from you. Robin must have put ideas in my head, but... how do you feel about yourself now? Does your earlier life trouble your thoughts still?" He asked compassionately, calmer than he had been with Marth for several days.

"...Yes. But not to the point where I'll stab people on sight again." Marth said with a dark expression. "I can promise you that. As for Chiki... Chrom, if anyone is suffering, I can see it's her." He said somberly. Feeling a wave of guilt wash over him, he spoke with sincerity. "I believe I am a liability in some ways... as useful and sociable as I've become, I think that, for everyone's sake, I should be reset. It would remove my pain, and when Chiki looks at me from now on, I'll just be a reminder of good times, not... a cause for sadness." He said, rubbing his arm.

"...I was going to give you the choice again. You've improved, Marth. And I actually think everyone agrees. But... it is very noble of you to do this. We will never forget the unique side you showed us. Maybe Old Hubba will be more careful in treating you Einherjar with respect when he sees what you've become... well, you still have a few days left of travel. Chiki knows of an Outrealm gate, magically sealed. She can unlock it when we're there. This will take us near the Plegian border, and the desert. Until then..." Chrom said, putting his hand on Marth's shoulder, smiling. "I want you to enjoy yourself. Even if you're not him, I'm damn proud to say you'd make an above average ancestor!"

Marth felt both insulted and overjoyed at Chrom's words. "Above average? Honored sir, I'll take it!"

"Hah hah! No, you're really awesome, I think." Chrom said, sending Marth off, and packing down the tent with Frederick. While rummaging through the equipment there, he found another motivational poster. Of a new design. There were more flowers this time, though not covering the...

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF... FRED!"

"It was perhaps me." Frederick said, betraying himself with a tiny, smug smile. "Alright. Sorry."

"DASTARD! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE MY FRIEND, WHAT THE HELL, MAN! AND LET ME TELL YOU... wait, this is Robin's face."

"Yes. Lady Tharja came to me with a request. It wasn't negotiable, she said to me."

"Hmm... hey, Tharja! I have something for you!" Chrom said gleefully to the dour mage as she passed by.

The loud screaming of Robin, having rushed to get the embarrassing poster out of Tharja's hands when she waved it past him, could be heard across camp. Roy was on his way to pack a heavy load of axes on the carts. He stopped and tossed them aside when Marth came over.

"Hey-o. Heard you defended camp. Nice job. Me, I got the enraged lance fighter instead. It got tense. You should have been there, Eirika hugged me! I was at a loss for words!" He said dreamingly, spinning around, tripping over the axes. "Oof!"

"Congrats. Why don't you "rub" your cards together and make clumsy little Roys? Oh, but name one after me. It was my suggestion, after all!" Marth said. "I know, I know... I'm such a dastard."

"No objections to that fact..." Roy said, getting up and grabbing the bag again, heavily. They both walked slowly to the transports. "I also made a new friend... via fist fighting."

"Oh? Well, isn't that usually the way you go about it?" Marth said, kidding. Roy took it seriously, and looked disappointed that Marth thought he was so blunt.

"And I saw her. Sumia. She's getting really fond of you! Shouldn't have to erase your memory and start again now, huh?"

"Oh!" Marth said, shocked. He had forgotten how Sumia would react to his decision.

"Wait... are you serious? You were gonna go through with it now?! You're doing so well, and like me, you've put a lot behind you! We're free men! I'm NOT going back to that unawareness now! Come on!" Roy said, pushing Marth in the side.

"I... I made up my mind. The risks outweigh the gains. I'll still have it all until we reach the Outrealms in a few days. Should I tell Sumia?"

"...Do as you wish. It's too bad, we're such good buddies. I guess I can break you again with a big reality talk..." He smiled mischievously, but quit when he saw what Marth thought of that. "Doesn't last forever, does it? Eh... let's make merriment for as long as we can, then! Get a seat next to Lon'qu. I wanna embarrass that silent fool!"

"Well, his grip on the ladies is rather loose! He needs to learn when to PINCH, if I may put it that rudely!"

"Yeah... give him a few tips on how to light his loins on fire, too!" Roy laughed hysterically, tossing the bag of axes onto Marth and running off, before the King could strangle him.

"Roy, you smug... um, hi. I'm carrying stuff, please don't distract me." The spirit said, walking off awkwardly when Henry stopped to observe his wobbling movements. Marth fell with the bag on top of him, and the young mage proceeded to ask where he felt pain, in a quite happy tone. The spirit only wanted him to go away while in such a "tight" situation. "URRRRGH..."

He finally loaded the weapons off safely in a minute, and waited for the rest of his companions to finish packing. Once again, Gaius appeared with a snack in hand from somewhere, leaning against the cart with Marth.

"Seems you're finally getting around to be like normal. Whatever normal means in THIS company..." He said, about to eat a cupcake. "And Nowi is now off my case. She rather bugs Ricken about stuff now... almost taken a shine to the boy wizard, I think. So my sweets are safe!" He said with certainty, taking a bite. Something was off. He had bitten air, and his hand was empty. Looking at his feet, and to the side, he found it. His face turned droopy and grey with horror.

"You were schaying?" Marth said, munching away at the pastry treat. "Got to schtay very wawy! You never know when dischaschter schtrikes!" He finished, swallowing the cupcake. "Relax, I'll make you a cake when we set up camp at the Outrealm gate. How's that?"

"...Jeez. Now you're almost rhyming, as well. The real Marth was a stinker, too, I'll bet..." Gaius said sourly, with crossed arms. "This tiara ought to be enough to get me more pastries, though! All is forgiven, old boy!"

"Whut? My-my-my tiara! Give it back!" Marth said angrily. A theft for a theft, then...

"As long as that cake is a promise, I can sell it back for... 500 gold." He said smugly, spinning it between his fingers.

"Outrageous! It's worth more than that! Um... I mean, maybe 300? Come on, Marth's sister gave it to him!" Marth pleaded.

"Make me two cakes, then. Here." Gaius tossed it back. "Promise?"

"Promise. You want to vow we'll never get stupidly drunk and end up sharing a bedroll as well?"

"Sumia didn't mind, but I don't roll that way!" Gaius laughed. "Here's a little chocolate liquor treat for me! It's been too long!" He said, tossing it in the air, opening his mouth. It never landed anywhere near him, nor on the ground. He blinked up at the sky, and then gave Marth a murderous glare. The spirit just shrugged, pointing behind the thief. Gaius saw a long, swirly tongue retract into the mouth of-

"CHIKI! AWWW... not you too! Lucky me we only have two Manaketes with us... I'm out. See ya, Marth. DON'T follow me, milady." He said seriously to Chiki, huffily turning about and reaching for a pocket in his cape. He found it all empty. "Oh, great! There goes my day..."

Chiki stood innocently near the cart, only a bit ashamed. She walked past to sit in Chrom and Robin's wagon, planning ahead while traveling. She shamelessly tossed Marth a candy she retrieved from a small bag. "He didn't need more. It's a favor for his teeth." She giggled to Marth.

This had been a fun morning, he thought, and started eating the orange-flavored sweet. He sat down with the newly returned Roy, ready to tease Lon'qu while the carts set themselves in motion. The only reason the Einherjar troublemakers didn't die by the warrior's curved Killer Edge, was because everyone else in the cart was female, to the bladesman's dismay. "It'll be a long journey..." He thought, shrieking once when Lissa tapped his shoulder and asked for her bag below Lon'qu's seat.

Marth thought of how happy he was, despite himself. He wouldn't trade this for anything... but he would have to now. His mind was clear... but his heart? Not entirely so. There was so much left unsaid... Sumia... Chiki... his other friends too. So confusing. He would see, once he faced Old Hubba with this case.

"Did you know Marth apparently has a rash? Something about his legs..." Lon'qu said shyly to the ladies, in retort for the small pranks of the two spirits. They all looked at Marth and giggled wildly. Even the usually reserved Miriel, who also offered an ointment. Lon'qu was not alone about ending the journey quickly, now.

As they went along, the caravan met a salesperson, set up beside a usually busy road. Her name was Anna, a cute red-headed trader who had a habit of winking often, and bringing a finger up to her mouth. She was shrewd beneath her playful exterior, and people often bought more than they needed from her for a few reasons. The Shepherds had rescued her and a town up north a while ago, slaying a very strange-mannered bandit named Victor. He and his "darling" brother Vincent had been plaguing the countryside for weeks, and with only Vincent left, the bandits retreated, surely to return with a craving for blood some day.

"Hello again, dears! What can I get you, Prince Chrom?" She said to the first cart passing by. "Such a handsome face could use protection. How about a light helmet, inscribed with the Royal Ylissean mark? Or perhaps... a full set of armor?" She winked seductively. Chrom was stunned, and considered her offer... until Robin smacked the back of his head.

"Heh... you're so focused, Chrom. Thanks, Anna, but we're moving out. An important task is before us." He said, receiving a foul glare from Chrom.

"Oh... I see. I'll be here, all alone... with no customers... an empty wallet... but it's no problem." Anna said, looking aside with shiny eyes, a loose fist brought up to cover her mouth. "Sniff... Thanks for stopping, at least."

Now Robin relented, telling the caravan to hold for a moment. He got out, feeling unwilling guilt. "Um... we COULD use some extra veggies... and a new axe for Vaike. He lost his again..."

Anna shone up immediately, giving Robin a quick kiss on the cheek and opening up her stall afterwards. "All set! Browse the finest wares this side of the continent!"

"UHHHMMMM..." Robin staggered around from the moment passed. Now Chrom kicked his shins in return. "OUCH!"

"You're welcome." The Prince said gladly.

People got out, purchasing some items they needed or, more importantly, wanted.

"Maybe this will help... hey! Can you see me now?" Kellam, an armored Knight said. He wore a suit of huge white-yellow armor, yet he was almost never noticed by people. This was practical in battle, making him a "heavy ninja", as he thought. His social life, however... "This party hat is freakin' green and red! Come on, I'm right here!"

All people said in response was "Did you hear someone?" Kellam slumped back into his seat on the cart, still buying the hat first. It was better than nothing in the colder weather, since his armor lacked a helm.

"Ooh! A gilded sword! Marth, gimme cash!" Roy said, finding a nice blade on a weapon rack. "It's so shiny!"

"Nope. I'm strapped for funds. Besides, you should be proud of your iron sword. It saved your hide!" Marth objected.

"But SHINYYYY..." Roy whined. "It's so much kinda like Durandal... that blade kicked serious keester! I would so like to wield it again like old Roy!"

"Well, you don't see me taking the Falchion from Chrom, now do you? It's mine, or was, but I make do without. Who knows, even the ladle I used in that forest might become legendary!" "The Scoop of Justice!"

Two customers, the only other browsers not with the Shepherds inside the market tent, observed them. Suddenly one of them muttered under his beige cloak, which covered his entire body. "Mm... a decent name. Wait, no! Blasted inconvenience of fate... down, sword hand! Crud..." He said in panic, discreetly running out and further down the road, not to be seen by the company of warriors again for a long period of time. He then swiftly returned and dragged his associate with him, who was smiling widely and approaching Anna with a seducing walk. "Dastard! Do not play the wily role of the shallow lecher in such dire times, my dull-brained companion!"

"You kept it? BWA HAH H-... sorry. It's pretty funny, you beat some guys flat with a blunt piece of cookware. Marth, just tell Anna you'll pay by credit." Roy said.

"WHAT?! She'll just increase the amount I'll have to pay back as soon as we leave! She's vicious in trade! You ask for credit!"

"No way. You do it!"

"You go over there!"

"See this face? It says: "Do it!"

"Why should I?"

"I'm your friend."

"So?"

"Scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours. Or blackmail you. Like if I tell Sumia you lov-"

Roy then found himself wrestled to the ground, struggling in a rolling fight with Marth.

"Don't you dare, pal! I'll tell Eirika you snuck into her tent and sniffed her bed covers when she wasn't there!"

"GASP! You cretin!" Roy breathed in a panic, and kicked Marth off him.

"Boys, be adults here. My shop will collapse if you roll closer to the tent supports." Anna said with crossed arms and an exasperated, but amused expression. "I'll give you credit, Roy. WITHOUT letting your debt grow over time. Just pay me back when you can. Don't expect any more favors though... ever."

"YAY! Thank you, Miss Anna!" Roy said, gleefully jumping at the weapon rack and hugging the gilded sword. "OW! Um... band aid? I got too excited..."

"Hopeless." Marth shook his head. "Life treating you well, Miss?"

"Indeed. How about you, spirit? Oh, don't look surprised. I know lots! Like where you're going, and why. Don't ask me how." She giggled, waving a finger before Marth.

"Well... it's ups and downs all the time. Like it should be... any bandits?"

"Oh, just a few. One almost got away with a ham shank yesterday. Fat slobbering beast..." She said. "I cut his costs short real quick... you could say my prices are to DIE for!" She snickered innocently.

"Heh heh... I'll see to it that Roy has his will ready. Credit taking might still be his end, after all..." Marth said, slightly scared of her demeanor. In the background Roy said "Ooh, shield!"

"ROY! Come on, you witless chump! Your thick head is enough a shield to blunt any weapon!" The spirit King said, dragging Roy out of the tent by his ear, under wild protests. "See you, Anna!"

"Bye! May the numbers favor you!" She waved, closing up now that the army was returning to their cart seats.

"Numbers? What random saying is that? About money, perhaps?" Roy asked Marth, slapping the other spirit's hand to make him release his ear.

"Eh... just hope it's in our favor." Marth shrugged. Roy was clueless. And he would continue to be, until the army reached the Plegian desert, a hot expanse of arid sands... and more than one kind of danger.

Author Note:

Awakening breaks the fourth wall sometimes, so I can too. Let's hope the Random Number Generator IS on their side...


	13. Ch 12: Cold thoughts wrought in heat

Chapter 12: Cold thoughts wrought in heat

"Phew! So hot! Back in Regna Ferox we can stand snow and minus degrees when lesser people would have received frostbites, but this!" Flavia, the Khan of East Ferox said. The reason she was with the army was because Regna Ferox had given assistance to Ylisse for the time being. Her thin, tanned face and set-up bleak yellow hair was sweating under the sun. The desert was a few miles ahead, but the natural baking oven of Plegia exuded warmth from a distance. The sun shone brightly. Basilio, her now dethroned counterpart ruler from the West, scoffed. The sunlight glinted off his bald brown head, which also had an eye patch covering his left eye.

"Hah? Getting a bit downed by sunlight? I've grown strong in both ice and fire, Flavia, my dear. This is quite refreshing!"

"Mm, I imagine so." She said. "Seeing as you've got nothing keeping the warmth in on that head of yours, oaf!" She joked cruelly. Basilio's face just grew strained, letting out a sigh of displeasure.

"Lon'qu, I'm sorry for those jokes earlier. I was wondering... Robin told me you had kitchen duty some weeks back, and that you peel potatoes like a professional." Marth said.

"Apology accepted. And yes." He said shortly, looking at the very few clouds drifting by in a blue sky, hand always on his sword. "In Regna Ferox, crops are hard to grow. Potatoes live through the winter best, thanks to a special type of roots on the Ferox breed. My mother assigned me to peel them every dinner, back when I lived in the country of Chon'sin, overseas. Long story short, potatoes should fear me... and rightfully so."

"Wow... you think there are any undead potatoes in the Risen army?" Roy asked.

"Highly unlikely, my dear Roy. Plants possess no means of movement on their own, and have no neural pathways for mind-controlling magic to go through." Miriel said, very academically.

"It would be cool! What would they taste like?"

"Your sweaty socks. Ugh, when did you change them last?" Cordelia said, scrunching up her nose and looking away.

"...Never." Roy shrugged. "I'm sort of dead... ish. I think I shouldn't sweat."

"Gods damn it, Hubba! First the alcohol, and now we sweat?" Marth said.

"I think not. I know what it is. The bag of bones and innards from lizards that Henry carried with him. He must have forgotten it..." Lon'qu added simply. "...Strange kid."

"EW! Marth, toss it off!" Lissa said, disgusted, backing away from the seat under which the bag was.

"Alright, don't get your frilly hair in a twist..." He said, and grabbed it. He checked inside once, and then retched. Apparently there was a spoiled piece of Wyvern meat inside. Henry cut it from the mount of a dead rider previously, eager to study it's anatomy and brew potions. THIS was useless now, though. "Hualgh! Be glad it's not your socks, pal!" He addressed Roy, and tossed the bag onto the ground, leaving it behind. Henry, who sat in a cart at the back of the caravan smelt the bag, and asked the wagon to stop so he could pick it up. To great peril, as they would find out.

Over in another cart, Vaike told tall tales of his past, in which he wrestled Wyverns, ate a whole cow in two hours, and threw an axe fifty feet, cleaving a strand of hair. Gregor did not believe him, and since the foreign-speaking man was very blunt in honesty, he admitted to have used a toothpick to carve a whole set of tattoos on some of his peers long ago. It hadn't broken, and he had used it for picking his teeth afterwards. Also, to slay ten bandits raiding his village.

"B-But... blood is filthy! You should have been sick! And everyone else!" Vaike protested. "Besides, it was WOODEN! How the heck...?"

"Smaller man with axe does not have stomach to share the blood of brothers? No one was sick. We fought, laughed and later, ate at grand feast. Simple." Gregor said, stroking his short beard stub.

"The bandits are a lie. They must be." Vaike said, crossing his arms with a secure smile.

"Eleven bandits fought after dinner. Ten dead from pointy pick. One left. He could, what you say, couch for me? Vooch? Vouch! Vouch for me! He gave up, agreed to be honest warrior, and married fine woman! Is now some rich village elder's bodyguard! Live far away, but Gregor drag him here for proof, if need is. Plus, who said Gregor used LITTLE toothpick? Teeth in my mouth are size of... well, point is gotten."

The man was completely sincere. Vaike was shocked beyond belief. "N-No. The Teach believes you. And... would like to spar." He grunted, wanting to know what made Gregor so tough.

"HAH HAH HAH! Brave man admits need of training! Good friend!" Gregor laughed, and hugged Vaike. The younger man was uncomfortable. Just like his creaking ribcage.

"We're headed south for a bit when we start the walk." Chiki told Chrom in their cart. They had just stopped, overlooking the edges of the sandy wasteland from beside a small river, and a sparse glen of leafy willows growing on a grassy patch, barely surviving without much water near such heat. "I've used this portal once, but it should still be intact. Good that we can fill up on water... some people in our group will be parched dry, I fear."

"I second that." Robin said, ready to faint from heat already. "P-Parched... heh. Parchment. Park. Parlor. Pearl... UGH! I'm dizzy already! Chrom, hand me a sip!"

"Here you go... how're you feeling? Still worried about Marth and Roy?" Chrom asked.

"Gulp! AAAAHHHH... yes." Robin said, having emptied a skin bag of water already. "We've been through that awful, warm place once... and they held up well. Now... I'm just worrying too much, is all." He said, waving away his troubled thoughts. "We'll set up everything here. And then have a final meeting before heading into the desert."

Once camp was set up, Marth eagerly went back to cooking lunch. The heat in the kitchen didn't bother him that much, because of his state of being. Besides, any water he drank would be wasted.

"Such a lot of... asparagus." Marth said, felling an overwhelmed sweat drop (which meant the spirits could sweat to an extent), when he saw what Robin bought from Anna. A few veggies, yeah, right... "Camp will have to do with asparagus and potato soup for a week... served cold. No one would eat it otherwise, out here. How to do that, I wonder?"

"Make a cold tomato soup instead. I know how." Lon'qu said. "Kitchen duty falls to me, as well. But potatoes shall be included." He spoke seriously. "Here's how..."

Lon'qu was apparently well versed in cooking stews and soup, being from a country where resources were used wisely. Such food could be saved for several days, growing tastier and gathering flavor over time. But how did he know of special cold soups? Marth didn't complain at the results, though. The Chon'sin's peeling skill wasn't questioned either.

"So we meet again. I'll make this quick. How well will you die...?" He whispered to the potatoes on the chopping board, brought one up, and peeled it in seconds, twirling the peeling knife. One by one they fell into a cooking pot, like bested warriors, fools eager to prove their worth without knowing their limits. "Now... they have all fallen. YOU..." He pointed with the peeler at Marth, who was crushing tomatoes and dropping them into the same pot. Lon'qu's gaze was steeled and deadly. "...Have witnessed my way of treating idiots. Swift, using my energy sparsely, and dispatching them with grace. One too many hopefuls have tried to strike me down... and all lie like these root fruits... on the bottom. However... a legendary King... your skill could be equal to my own. I have seen you in battle. If you were a potato... you would be at the top."

His seriousness was severe. And his metaphorical use of potatoes was extremely awkward to Marth.

"Um... so I'm a better potato?"

"You know what I meant, Marth. You have my respect. Few do." He said, barely letting a smile loose, and then grabbing a carrot, munching away surprisingly silently while seating himself. "One day we may spar, in a REAL match. Until then... prepare yourself."

"Right... we got off topic. Next, deal with the peels. We can cook them too, and get more nutrients for everyone."

"...Smart chef." Lon'qu said, and got up, gathering the peels and fine-chopping them, tossing it all into the pot. "...Will some of these kids ever realize war isn't fun and games? I doubt it..." He diverted onto a new subject. "Ricken, Donnel, even some of the oldest, they seem to mind war too much. In the end, you need to be prepared to kill or be killed. I have slain many... but I do not let it get to me anymore. Treat their corpses with honor, and move on. If I lose sleep over it, I'll just be weakened."

When he said this, Lon'qu seemed to emit a field of tempered fury. The warrior's discipline was flawless in theory. Marth had some objections. You should show mercy at times. And when it is impossible to do that, then...

"...One should live on for their fallen allies... and enemies. By that, I mean to live your life to the fullest. Marth always did that. He was sad about ending lives, but promised for the sake of those he took the chance of living from that HE would never stoop into self-pity again. Life is a gift... and even you, I feel, care that way too. Life would be hard-lived if we had no remorse, Lon'qu." Marth finished.

"...Perhaps. I'd just never admit it." Lon'qu said sincerely. He was a hard man, and would need to remain that way for now. Marth diverted the subject instead now.

"Hey, look! We have company. What do you need, Miss Florina?"

An Einherjar Pegasus knight, Florina, had entered the kitchen. She came from Elibe too, and was shaped after the girl who helped save that continent twenty years before Roy set out on his journey. Her hair was very lightly lavender-colored, bushy and silky, hanging far down her back. She wore a white skirt, with blue chest pads over a white shirt for armor.

"U-Um... I-I wanted to see if f-food was ready. Some of my companions from the other worlds were getting hungry... I-Is there a problem?" She said with a light voice, shaking a bit. Roy had told the King that Florina was a shy woman, especially around men. It was a severe case of androphobia, fear of the male sex. Lon'qu, in turn, had gynophobia, strong fear of women. Visibly so. They sort of complimented each other, Marth thought...

"U-U-U-U-U-Um... It's al-al-almost readAAOCH!"

The man from Chon'sin had accidentally reached into a boiling pot, which Marth set to prepare a very tough type of meat in beforehand. Lon'qu quickly dipped his hand into a barrel of cold water. Florina screamed, looking like she'd been struck by lightning.

"EEEEEEK! M-M-M-My goodness! S-So loud..." She said silently, closing her eyes, falling over towards the pot of hot water. The stress was about to get her a new facial color.

"BY THE SAINTS!" Marth yelled, tossing himself at her. He caught her, and rolled out of the way of the tipping pot. "Phew! ...Are you okay?"

Florina was out cold for two minutes, and then woke up in Marth's arms. She nearly fainted again.

"Hey hey! Don't drop unconscious yet again! You're fine! Did Lon'qu scare you?"

Her response was a face colored crimson. Tipping hot water on her would not have made a difference in color context. She stuttered, getting herself up with Marth's hand.

"Y-Yes. Men are so l-l-loud sometimes. T-T-Thank you, sir Marth." She bowed, head alight like a torch.

"It was no trouble. I'll give you a serving as soon as we're done. Okay?" He smiled. She nodded, and went out of the tent, looking once with a shy expression at Lon'qu.

"B-By the West Khan's underpants!" Lon'qu exhaled, having held his breath after sticking his hand in the barrel. "She should be more careful. She almost spoiled tomorrow's dinner. That piece of meat is still edible, though. Back in the pot!" The swordsman looked at the chunk of animal flesh like it had better jump back into the pot by itself, or else...

"Lon'qu... she's scared of men. She couldn't help it. As for you..."

"I fail to see what involvement I had." He replied calmly. Amazing, that this man could act half his age around women, but was undisturbed when talking to only men. "Women simply lack the proper way to present their thoughts to me."

"PFFT! Try the other way around, friend. You could have rivaled the sun in intensity for a moment there. Red as a rash!"

"...I have no idea what you speak of. I'm worried about your eyesight. And hearing. Also, have you treated your own rash?" He said neutrally.

"Will that stalk me forever?" The King thought desperately about his encounter with Chiki that day before. "She almost smiled at you on her way out! Come off it, or I'll buy you a book on how to talk to women for your birthday. And... she IS cute. Admit that." Marth said humorously, hoping to get the Feroxian's behavior to change. Results were inbound.

"Ugh... keep your mouth shut! I... I'll apologi-gi-gize." He said, stammering at the mere thought. "She d-deserves better than what I said... even if she's a card spirit. Tell no one, or we'll have a match here... to your loss." He said, eyes glinting darkly at Marth. Oh, boy... would the kitchen drama ever end, the King thought? As well as the related injuries?

"I know just the guy to speak to about girls. The Teach is a great woman's guy, and he keeps secrets!" Marth said, knowing full well how corrupt and evil he was for suggesting Vaike to Lon'qu. Anything for a friend, though... a friend who had mentioned those blasted loins twice...

During a small, fifteen-minute break, Marth sat outside, bringing a hand up above his eyes to look at the clear sky and merciless sun. "I can't remember what it felt like to dehydrate... or to be truly struck by the sun. Some things just can't be felt when you're dead, I guess..."

"Hey, Marth. Fancy seeing you here, master chef. Although, maybe not. This is where you work after all..."

The Hero-King looked around. From the direction of the Einherjar tents Ike now came walking. His face was calmly serious as always, yet had a hint of strain. Marth hadn't spoken to him that much, just in passing. He knew parts of the man's history, but not all about his personality. Which is why he invited him to sit outside the kitchen with him for a moment, where they talked. The King brought up Ike's fierce appetite.

"You know, you could leave a few more plates for the others. Not even Panne eats that much, and she can transform into a giant rabbit-beast. I don't think you need the extr-... I mean..." Marth regretted saying that. Ike turned around uneasily, but was otherwise unfussed. Was something wrong?

Ike knew that Marth had knowledge about his Einherjar life. But he still put on a brave face and pretended the King had just misspoken.

"Yeah... sorry about that. Meat and I go hand in hand... but I'll control myself from here on. Or I could not call myself a proper warrior!" Ike said proudly.

He wouldn't let anyone know he'd broken, lest he endangered and sabotaged the army's plans. His problems were his own, he figured.

"From what I've heard, you've been damn strong, Marth. Coping with your strange existence... it's like the Branded of my world. They're beorc, my race, similar to humans, who unlike me have blood mixed with the beast tribes, Laguz. Most feel like they never fit in anywhere. I welcomed some of them into my force when I was at war. Unlike many other beorcs, I never felt racial prejudice. As long as you're willing to stand up for others, you're all right to me. I'd say you fit that bill, too." Ike said with respect.

Marth felt surprised he even had the trust of a relative newcomer. They were already getting along pretty well, the noble King and rough merc captain. Plus, both had gotten to know Roy, which made them have slightly more in common.

"I'd still like to see you in REAL combat though, sir King." Ike said, flashing a smirk. "Can't stand up for anyone without a decent weapon arm." He said, twirling his silver sword between his fingers, and then back into the sheath. "Best of luck, comrade."

When Ike passed out of sight, he sat down behind Henry's tent. Not caring about the squeals and sadistic laughter he heard from within there, he sighed.

"That was too close... but I have to stay quiet about it. Why won't it stop gnawing at my conscience? I'm doing a good thing here, keeping everyone else's lives carefree. My problems are my ow-"

"Are they? What aren't you telling us?" Micaiah asked. Appearing like from thin air once more, she sat down beside him. Ike winced. He did not need, as he called her, the vice president of the "Blame Ike" club to comfort him. While he stared at the ground, she looked at his visage with some tenderness. She didn't really hate him, he was just such a handful to her. "Ike... come on. This isn't like you." She touched his shoulder gently.

Ike's face turned scarlet. "What do YOU know, Priestess? ...I have training to get to. See ya... though I'd prefer not!" He said brusquely, storming up and away in a fret. Micaiah continued to think where she sat, a bit hurt.

Ike was the only person in camp she recognized well, so she did stick around him quite often. She wished Edward, Nolan, Leonardo and Sothe were there... the Dawn Brigade... these "Shepherds" didn't accept her yet, she believed.

Suddenly, a big, three-headed frog jumped out of Henry's tent, scaring her silly. Henry apologized and offered her to pet his domesticated crows, but she didn't listen, walking off with a sad expression.

Marth was excused from kitchen duty after lunch, to great protests. Gregor, however, was grateful. Now he could whip the food into "proper" shape again.

"Well, cooking wasn't the only thing I ever wanted to do." The spirit said to Robin, walking over to the command center to plan the desert trek. Chiki said that since they would walk instead of flying, like she had done the first time through, it would take perhaps a day and a half to reach the gateway. A small group would go along, of up to 8 people. A camp would be set up halfway to the gate, for extra support, with people taking shifts out there. If they ran into enemies, they would need able fighters. Marth was of course one, then Chrom (being the leader), Chiki (path seeker), Lissa (to back up with healing), Gaius (for lock picking, if needed), Virion (for striking distant targets), Henry (because of his fascination with the arcane... and horribly effective Dark magic) and lastly Sumia, for air support, and to transport someone if they got hurt. Roy was bothered he couldn't come, as he told Marth when the two spirits were at his tent.

"Marth, why can't I go? I know your pain better than anyone. Old Hubba would be in for such a cracked nose when I got my hands on him..."

"Roy, you have come to terms with being a memory. I still have a few issues that never leave me. I may look happy now, but for everyone's sake, I need to erase all doubt."

"Including yourself?" He asked sadly. "Look at the progress you've made. No one would turn their back on you now. We've learned who you were, and are. What you have become... so it's kind of selfish to us others, just tossing that out the window. Before you yell at me, I know, how hypocritical of me, saying that even if I myself have been through it, and wallowed in self-pity. You ARE stable. And if you weren't we'd all do our best to help you. Even Chrom, that unfair nut-head." Roy said seriously. "Will you reconsider?"

"...I wish I could. It tears me apart, but a lost age calls me, and I can never again answer it. It bothers me every day. Even during my best moments... and at the same time, I love this new life. The real Marth would have, too..."

"...Aren't you him? The real deal? Can't you be the Altean Liberator, Shadow Dragon Slayer and Hero-King of Akaneia anyway?" Roy said, clenching his own fists lightly. "I'm your friend, and since you said you would stand by me when I wanted to become unaware before, I'll respect your choice. But next time we meet... I can't view you as I did. All the good times will be gone... except in memory. Such a dastardly concept... so cruel... memories."

Roy had started to shed some tears. For a minute they turned to a small stream. He then spoke with finality.

"Go ahead, milord. No matter where you go, remember in some dark corner of your head... that I was your friend. Roy, Marquess of Pherae. Son of Eliwood the Brave. And a very immature little jerk!" He laughed in his sorrow.

"Roy..." Marth spoke, nearly crying himself. The months passing, the times shared... Roy was right. Marth would be selfish AND selfless at the same time by doing this. But it was what he wanted. And Roy was good enough a friend to accept his final wish. He grabbed the Marquess's shoulder, and looked him in the eye. "Battle brothers... forevermore, friend."

They both left the tent silently, walking in opposite directions. Marth met up with the rest of the group, ready to set out. "...Let's go. I'm finished here."

"You sure?" Robin asked, there to see them off. He was obviously sad to see Marth go, too. "Have you talked to the others? And Ro-"

"Yes. Let us MOVE." Marth said with such gravity that the whole group nearly shuddered. "If we are to save the world, I can't dawdle. No king in history ever won a war by sitting lamely on his throne."

Author Note:

Things are about to change for everyone in this story soon...

And for you too, fellow FE fans. I published two chapters today, because of the following decision. In order for you all to savor the story a bit longer, I'll upload less frequently now. I think I was too hasty last week, so I'll try to give you one chapter every week instead, give or take a few days. Hope that's okay! If not, you're welcome to speak up. See you in a while, then!

Update:

Fixed Lon'qu's nationality. I forgot he wasn't Feroxi to begin with, but from Chon'sin. Thanks to Glaceon Mage for the correction.


	14. Ch 13: Revealing bout of despair

Chapter 13: Revealing bout of despair

It felt like ages had passed. The group of eight stumbled on through the heat. A regular pack mule had been assigned to carry the water and rations during the trip, walking beside Chrom. For comfort they had shaved the hair off its midsection, where the items were strapped onto in bags. The mule was still the least parched, along with the never-thirsty Marth.

"GUH! HACKH!" Gaius spluttered, feeling his tongue go dry. It was really hot today, even by Plegian standards. "Ugh... I would love some ice-cream here and now... with cherries and chocolate sauce... the best variety, that's served in the Ylissean Maiden Café, at the capital. Oh, and the ladies... such curvy waitresses..." He said, heating up slowly at the thought. "The luster and shine of Mellorea, that girl with the short pink hair who steals small change during slow business hours... I could share my sweets with her all day..." He blabbed in fatigue, unable to think clearly.

"Gaius, you're hopeless. We can still see camp, and you're already done for?" Sumia sighed, walking beside her mount. She was okay now, faster than expected, and had eagerly agreed to follow. Her temper seemed to be sinking steadily, though. "Did you eat too much sugar?"

"Do you need... to ask?" He gasped, slouching. "Of... course."

"Nowi's coming..." Henry whispered behind him. He carried his stinky bag still, and went last in the group because of it.

"GAH! Stay back, you green-haired glutton!" He waved, falling over and getting sand in his mouth. "Ptooey! Henry, I'll steal your experiments and shove them into an oven, I swear!"

"Tell me more... what does she look like otherwise?" Virion asked Gaius, helping him up. His grey-blue hair was soaked from sweat in the heat. "Anything to take my mind off my less-than-elegant looks at the moment!"

"Well... Mellorea is around 18, has pink hair, thin eyebrows, and a smug smile that melts my heart like chocolate syrup! Such a beauty! And she always gives me a discount when I go there... unless I'm on a wanted poster at the time. Perfect woman." He swooned out of character. All his usual subtleness was gone in the frying heat of Plegia.

"Sounds trés magnifique! My mind can see her now, a paralyzing vixen cleaning tables in a maid's outfit... such elegance, curviness... a shining example of glorious LOVE! Ah, I 'ave not met her, but already I feel she has a place in my heart, next to every other woman I've met! Oh, Sully, Cordelia, Miriel, Maribelle, Sumi- err... someone else, too! And the oh-so-majestic Einherjar women, even those I've only seen briefly while fighting in the Outrealms! Eirika, Nino, Elincia, Serra, Nana... and Florina! So petite and frail, but possessing great kindness and bravery nonetheless! Ah, I would cross time itself and find them, shatter dimensions just to see the fair ladies that history forgot, to give away the love always meant for them! MINE!" He said, holding his hands together next to his head, seeing stars.

"Sounds... so... SWEET!" Gaius exclaimed in his silly state. His nostrils burst open with a small spray of blood. It was one of his characteristics, but it usually happened because of sugar rushes. He had gotten too excited.

"Are you two done?" Chrom said, irritated. They had kept walking, but Virion just wouldn't shut up. "If you stay in one spot, you'll be so dead and dry the only who'll go for you are those Risen Pegasus knights! Want a tongue wrestle with THOSE ladies?"

It wasn't enough to stop Gaius and Virion from skipping through the sand with locked-together arms, singing praise to all fair girls the universe could offer. It went something like this. Loudly.

_-Ladies fair, and ladies fine_

_Take our hands, it will be sublime!_

_An archer and thief, we stand ready_

_to take your hands, it's destiny!_

_Drop the scopes off other men_

_we'll please you 'til the very end!_

_Yes, join us here in splendid dance_

_You've struck our hearts, like with a LAAAAAAANCE!_

On that high note, both of them stumbled into Marth. He was very annoyed. Thinking about such things now would cause him more doubt. He hadn't looked at Sumia once, and probably for the best. She had been very solemn this entire walk, sticking near Chrom. Marth still couldn't tell her... not ever. She'd have to simply get over it. Plenty of guys bound to go after such a good woman. After all, they hadn't gone anywhere with it... and he was some weird phantom, to boot. She would be better off... he lied to himself.

"I hurt Chiki by existing... and will hurt Sumia by erasing my independence. I betrayed Roy's friendship, it feels like... yet they still seem to trust me. I don't understand fully... like a part of Marth's feelings wasn't stored in my card. What's missing?"

They kept marching, seeing a rock formation off in the distance. They would take shelter there, now as night approached. The sand cooled, and the sun went down in a sea of red and orange on the horizon. Everything had a blue tinge under the starry night sky. As the company went to bed, confident this would be over in just a day, Marth sat alone on a cliff, looking towards Ylisse and Regna Ferox. He could see the small fire from their support camp a good bit away, and no sign of the main one. In the other direction lay the vast sea, out of sight. He thought once again, but considered it a bad idea. His head felt like it could explode.

"Ugh... damn. What was he thinking that time, sending his memories with me? Marth's skills could have been written down instead, on paper. Or passed on through an unbroken line of sword masters. I've felt he could never respect me, if he was here. I would be second-hand, that thing used in battle so he wouldn't have to fight... we're all better off soon."

"Are you sure?" A voice said softly. Marth half expected Sumia to follow him. She did not disappoint, and walked over to sit with her feet out over the cliff, looking down at their sleeping comrades. "So that's the reason we're out here. Chrom told me we might recruit more of you guys... but not about YOUR task. It's hard to get over... you never will, perhaps. But it seems like you've broken somehow. Not snapped, like with Stahl, but... given up. There were risks before, but not now. Would your friends want this? Your old ones? And Sheeda?"

At Sheeda's name Marth began shivering. "I n-never knew them. He did. So I should remove all concern for something that never happened. I NEED to be just a tool now. I have no idea, honestly, about the feelings of anyone but my pal Roy in the matter."

"Liar. Chiki and I both know that you see our concern... all of the camp is worried. You just shy away. Why not move on? We'll help you, and you can keep your awareness." She smiled warmly.

Marth surprised himself greatly by snapping at her. "I'm not my own person! I'm a ghost, a phantom, a gods damned COPY! If I fail, I won't be surprised to see Hubba has a back-up anyway! Another one who'll say "Ah, greetings, noble company. You may call me Marth, King of Altea. Shall I show you around the non-existant gardens? Have a non-existant cup of tea? Spar a bit with my non-existing friends? Oh, but I don't care if it's all gone, 'cause I don't even know I'M DEAD!"

He panted heavily, fists banging against the cliff wall. "He's DEAD! I'm DEAD! Do I have a third alter ego? Someone not involved in this SODDING MESS?! GRAAAAGH!"

He had enough of crying ages ago. Yet he did so now again, fiercely. Where this rage came from he didn't really care, as long as he let it out, and could push the world back, when it pushed him, telling it to let him live. Yet he was stubborn enough to deny himself that right he had earned. Terribly indecisive. And Sumia saw it. She stood up, looking angry, but also tearful. Without warning she slapped him hard in the face.

"I pity you, Sir King. And I think you are the biggest idiot in this world, right next to King Gangrel, and all those ancient, evil fiends you bested in Marth's time! Gharnef the Sorcerer, corrupted Emperor Hardin, Medeus the Shadow Dragon... you're abusing yourself! And I can't stop you... only try to snap you out of it! No reasoning with men, huh?! No matter if they're from a millennia ago, they still don't act with chivalry! That's just a bedtime story lie! Good night... hope you're happy! Have your dreams back... and toss away my friendship." She said with grace and power beneath the sadness. "I'm almost never self-certain... only now. Fare thee well... or not!"

She walked down with heavy steps, so agitated that if one of the people below stirred in their sleep, she tossed a tiny pebble at them.

"Good, one less to think about!" Marth thought venomously as he massaged his cheek from the blow. He sat down again, and broke Marth's promise. Never to pity himself, but do things to make it right. The old Marth wanted "right"? He could find RIGHT by dropping into hell!

"...Gods, what did I just do? What is wrong with me?! ...She'll never forgive me. I'm such a moron! Jackass! Twit! Clog-brained numbskull! ...I faced this before... and here it goes now again..."

He walked off past the sleeping people. Out into the cold desert during the wee hours of early morning. He went by himself, not caring about the gate, or Chiki, or potatoes, or dragons, or anything BUT himself. When he was miles away, standing atop a high dune, he gathered air. All this frustration... that Einherjar energy surge a few days ago did not release everything. One screamed sentence summed up his entire existence to him.

"MARTH... HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO MEEEEEEE!" He cried at the top of his lungs, almost twisting one of his magical chest muscles.

The sound died away quickly, disappearing nearly unheard into the distance. He slumped down, defeated in every way a warrior could imagine. He tossed his sword aside. It wasn't doing any good in his fool palms.

"Better to let Chrom carry on... he's the new Marth. Or that masked woman from the future... she looked identical to me with that disguise on... back in Castle Ylisse, when we saved Exalt Emmeryn. Bah! There goes that thing about Marth looking like a woman again. Jeigan always complained about his style... but his skills were manly enough... yeah right! Such a sissy! What with the tiara and everything! I hate it all! Damn Marth's sister, Jeigan, Chiki, all my old and new friends! And of course, that royal bastard himself, whose name I don't want! They can't reprimand me anyway, now... if I were to just sink away into nothing here, sleep in the sands. No one would care any longer. Least of all me... sleep forever... give up..."

"Then he's truly dead." A kind but stern voice said. Chiki had turned into a dragon and looked for him, reverting to her human form now. "You are smart, for making your decision to travel to the Outrealms, resetting. But nothing else. Marth will join our ranks again... his ignorant shell will fight until the shadows are lifted from this world... I started to consider you as a free being, seeing a trace of my friend in you, happy with comrades and carrying only the good of a past life. You were Marth... for a while. A noble soul. Whatever you are now is... horrible. I will never give you pity in this state of mind you have."

"Ch-Chiki? Nice timing. Any a-advice on how to best this? This... bloody nightmare!" Marth said through gritted teeth, lying in the sand.

"...The first thing I felt when I met Marth was a desire to live. For everything. You know that feeling, and you don't bother. Now you just sulk, with no self-worth. Pathetic." She said, tilting her eyebrows angrily. "They should stamp a new name on your card... Marth is too good for you."

"Kick on me as you would a stray dog, won't you? Oh, right, but unlike me, those actually LEARN!" Marth yelled, sitting up. "I've milled this through hundreds of times, and now I've had it! If Marth's dead, and you don't care, why'd you come here, Chiki?! Huh?!"

She wasn't sure how to answer that question, her eyes wide in shock. Her head turned aside, but for a change, there were no tears, only a face that could perhaps have made the gods themselves come down to comfort her.

"I... always believed in you, somehow. I wanted to turn this negativity aside, like a blade blunted by armor. I can't help it, clinging to him... I admired Marth. Sheeda was aware of this, but did not despise me for it. She was glad I trusted him so much. They were so happy... and Manaketes should never mingle with humans. To my despair... can you not see how I feel too? I said it does not bother me, but seeing my friends... my family, die slowly as the years go by while I stay the same... it tears me apart! There are times when I wish I never had been born to endure this, at least not as a Manakete, alone for millennia! Fate is cruel... yet I can't leave my new friends to face danger alone. Those who are now passed away would want me to be strong. I WANT to remain strong..."

The spirit of the Hero-King looked at her with mixed feelings. When he tried speaking, her pained frown turned to him, and struck him with realizing guilt. His memory must have been terrible, because he himself had said that she suffered just as much as he before, in camp. He had been very inconsiderate towards one feeling the same fateful losses...

"But I'm sorry... for never seeing you, after the Akaneian wars. I'm sorry for growing up... I wish I was still the young Chiki... ignorant regarding the world and its troubles. A child with an innocent love for... y-" She said, but interrupted the sentence, lowering her head.

A light desert breeze began blowing, moving her long, green hair. He saw her. The incomparably sweet girl from millennia ago, grown up... but forever his friend. Marth stood up, walking over to put a hand on her shoulder.

"...Well... we're both unhappy then." Marth said slowly, feeling his sad rage ebbing away at a strange pace. It felt nice. "You're better than I deserve... I shouldn't be talking to you... I won't even live for my friends any longer... Roy would be right on cue with a sarcastic one-liner here." He chuckled remorsefully.

"...He was adamant you were okay. Such a sweet boy... he really embraced being Roy's legacy. But you want to be your own... or wanted to. We should return to camp... No apologies are necessary. I think we have both spoken words we did not mean this night."

"Sniff... yeah." Marth said, drying his nose on his cape. "...For what it's worth, I respect you. A lot. Never met a more reliable girl. Well, except Sumia... but she is still convinced I'm a total prick..."

"You'll be able to settle your differences before the end." Chiki said, now smiling kindly like she often did. "Like Roy, I'll respect your choice... IF you meet it with grace and dignity. Otherwise, I'll force you to remain with us the way you are, sad mopey-dopey Marth clone!" She jested, poking him many times in a playful manner.

"Hey, hey! Stop it... hah hah... hmm? What's that near camp?" Marth noticed, looking at the cliffs far away. Something huge was moving around the sleeping area.

Chiki tensed up, grabbing her Dragonstone immediately. "Hang on!"

Before he got a word in, just about managing to grab his sword again, he was grabbed by her great, transformed clawed feet, soaring towards the sleeping Shepherds. When they came closer, Marth saw something hideous. Right below them... not Risen, but worse. Giant desert scorpions, imbued with dark magic. They came out at night to hunt camels and, if available, people.

Marth was terrified. He could have warned them, remained in camp and stayed alert. Too late for that now. But he wouldn't have more people hurt because of his own incompetence. "No! By Divine Naga! Chiki! Drop me now!"

"But there's so many, and it's too far up!" She responded in her dragon voice.

"I don't care! My own life is worthless in comparison to Chrom and the others! LET GO!"

He got his wish, and soared down a good amount of feet, bringing his sword out. Mid-air, he breathed in heavily, closing his eyes. His fall would soon end. And also his restraint.

"Vicious beasts! Taste cold iron!" He yelled, spinning down nearly like a ball, breaking his fall by transferring all the force in it through his sword and into a scorpion. Marth was more durable than a regular living person, and didn't break his legs on impact, feeling just a great strain. The animal barely moved again, having been struck with such downward thrust force its carapace had shattered, and turned some vital organs to mush. Marth jumped off the gigantic body, and rushed towards the bed rolls.

Everyone fought desperately. Henry's dark magic worked wonders against these things, blowing them apart from inside while he only smiled lightly at the carnage. Sumia struck from above, zooming in between pincers and poison tails lunging at her. Virion managed a few kills with his bow, shooting the scorpions through the eyes from a vantage point above the beds. Chiki swooped by with a shower of blue fire, burning several creatures.

Marth joined the fray, and stood by Chrom, double teaming a huge grey scorpion, an elder. It swiped at them from many directions, enraged by the deaths of its brothers, and got a hit in on Henry with its tail, right through his arm. He yelled out, and then only muttered about the inconvenience it posed, sitting down further beneath the cliffs, and rubbing a vulnerary on. Lissa, staying out of harm's way, went over to him, trying her healing staff on the wound. Virion managed a shot that blinded the giant creature, while Gaius slashed one of its enormous legs away with a critical strike to a joint. The beast fell down, and Chrom struck it square in the head. It shuddered, and then lay still. The creatures retreated, burrowing into the sand. The Shepherds would have been overwhelmed, had morning not appeared ever so slightly on the horizon, shining a welcoming yellow.

"Phew... good timing, Marth." Chrom complimented. "Henry is in bad shape, I see. I suspect his smelly bag of body parts lured the fiends here... Sumia, take him to the main camp. We need some antidote for the poison, Lissa doesn't have the right materials out here. We certainly didn't expect to find scorpions... or to be found by THEM."

"All right, on my way. Stay safe, commander!" She said, carefully helping Henry up on her mount, casting a neutral glance at Marth before taking off.

"So she'll remain hurt, then... blast it!" Marth thought, sighing heavily. He had done his best, though. It was no one's fault that Henry needed help. And now he was more resolute than ever to cease his liability. "Let's move on. The gate should be around within a few hours, right, Chiki?"

"Yes. We'll pack up and move." She said. "I suppose this needs an end..."

Author Note:

Oookay... Marth is going through much. Was this too shallowly angsty, or maybe even whiny? I'm not sure, myself. Marth's circumstances are rather hard for him to make sense out of... who wouldn't be indecisive in his case?

Admittedly, I put a tiny amount of my own angst into this. Feels good to let some steam off through a fictional character. If one does it right, I feel it makes the story more believable. I hope that was the case here, otherwise I'll maybe try a rewrite in the future, when I feel like it.


	15. Ch 14: Hearts coming to term

Author Note:

Filler material incoming, a.k.a. "Here goes nothing... again!" After this, most chapters will only be relevant to the bigger plot, so no worries about getting mired in side stuff. This entry is simply an attempt at putting some depth into a character pairing.

I also wonder if I messed up with something in chapter 13. I haven't seen any reviews on it yet, so... if anything was lacking, please tell me.

Chapter 14: Hearts coming to term

"Whoa! This is amazing! I've never ridden a Pegasus before! Such speed... thanks, Florina!"

Princess Eirika soared through the sky with her closest friend (besides Roy). They set down after a good fifteen minutes in the sky, looping back and forth over the forests a distance away from the desert. When Florina had patted her mount on the back, giving it an apple adn tying it up in the Pegasi pen, both of the female acquaintances then walked back to their tents.

"Good day, milady. Feeling fine, I hope? I shall pray to Naga for your well-being... and yours too, Florina!" Libra, the warrior priest said, sweeping some of his long golden hair out of his feminine face. He was busy cutting wood outside his tent. His earnest behavior was an example which few followed to the letter in camp, aside from Frederick. Then again, if they did, Chrom would suddenly have command over a group of persistent perfectionist clones. A nightmare, to be sure...

"Thank you, sir Libra. I appreciate all you do for those of us who come here from the Outrealms. Surely, we are nothing so special?" Eirika asked appreciatively.

Libra's face was a real puzzling conundrum right then. He didn't have more of a response than a silent, happy wave as the girls continued on.

"E-Ehm... Eirika, I was wondering... have you had any trouble sleeping lately? I have. It's weird, but ever since I heard about Marth and Roy being... g-ghosts or something, I just can't get an uneasy feeling out of my stomach..." Florina asked, looking at the ground. "They, as well as we, come from the Outrealms too, from our own worlds. Yet those two are dead, some kind of imprints... what do you suppose that's about?"

Eirika looked at her friend. "I've slept well. And I find it a bit weird... I didn't think much about it until recently. Roy certainly doesn't seem dead. Quite the opposite, in fact. Perhaps they misspoke, Chrom and his commanders. Don't worry, Florina. We're all well and good, right?" She smiled.

"Um... y-yeah. How silly of me." Florina exhaled, embarrassed. "Worrying like this might kill me on the battlefie-"

"It sure will. Want some tips on how to avoid that?" Micaiah said, appearing from behind a tent. Florina yelled, and nearly jumped into Eirika's arms in fright. "Oops. I'm so sorry! I've spent too much time with Tharja... her habits are rubbing off." Micaiah excused herself.

"I-I-It's alright. Micaiah, w-why aren't you sneaking up on Ike instead? You two seem to get along..." Florina said, twitching a small smirk. It was a way to pay back for the scare, but also an honest question. Micaiah just looked at her with an incredulous pout.

"That dork? Sheesh... he never obeys my advice, treats me like an annoying sidekick AND I'm sure he looks at me in a weird way. Sometimes. I've tried finding other clothes, but the tailor in camp says he hasn't got any materials right now. UGH! I like the breeze on my skin, but not THIS! How did I come to Ylisse clad like a... well, you get the point." She said with crossed arms.

The fact that the army tailor did not have anything for her might have had something to do with the fact that he, and a number of other shameless men around camp liked her look. Eirika rolled her eyes at their obviously questionable motives.

"You'll find something, Micaiah. And no one would dare leer at you for long. Your spells rip holes in our foes!" Eirika complimented. Micaiah looked somewhat more secure now, and bid them goodbye when she continued her search for interesting events around camp.

"She s-should realize people will help her integrate. Even if this isn't her old... err, "Morning Brigade", was it? Well, she's w-welcome to be my friend. Without the jump scares..." Florina said.

"You're kind, Florina. The men around camp treat you well, I hear. But you should find another reason for them to do so, besides the fact they keep their distance out of your fear for them. We can work on that later, okay?" Eirika said, ruffling Florina's hair gently. Both of them laughed, and did not notice Roy until he was three meters away from them. He respected Florina's personal space.

"Hey, Eirika. I... wondered if you would like to spend some time together with me. Miss Florina, might you excuse us?" Roy said respectfully. The lavender-haired rider turned around flustered, on her way already.

"Yup, she needs some work..." Eirika snickered. "And "hey" to yourself, my "noble" Lord." She bowed.

"Eirika, there's no need for such courtesy. Remember, all those fancy dresses, suits and chest napkins-"

"IT'S A CRAVAT, YOU UNCULTURED MASTER OF CRASSNESS... ness... ess...!" A very echoing voice screamed from the direction of the desert. Insults to Virion's style never escaped his ears...

"...Well, it doesn't count out here. We're just equals in speech, style and... uh, I mean, YOU do of course look better than I, and I just meant we can speak as we wish. You know, like friends?" Roy said with an ever-shrinking voice. My brain has switched off, he thought...

Eirika looked at him cheerfully, walking over to grab his hand. "Friends... yeah. Come with me." She said, and began walking along speedily with him, almost making Roy drop a poorly tied boot from his left foot, having it chafe his heel on the way.

Florina wasn't back at the tent Eirika and she shared, so the two young Lords arrived to sit down outside on a pair of chairs, facing each other across a tiny table. A nearby fir tree's branches shielded them from the sunlight.

"So... what did you want, Eirika?" Roy smiled casually. The first thrill of being with her had not subsided.

"First... I want to apologize for beating you boys up. I almost never lose my temper. It was kinda frightening for me too." She said, an embarassed sweat drop running down her cheek. The situation felt tense to Roy.

"You don't need to apologize. We earned it. Why this all of a sudden?"

She sighed. "Just like Ephraim... hasty and headstrong." She said. "Yet I hear that was not always the case. In life, you were a tactician of good renown and calmness, back in your world, or so I heard from Marth on one occasion. You should act like that more often..." She recommended. Roy felt like he could sink through the earth.

"Too reckless... it's only true. I've changed much since I found out that I'm an Einherjar... like repressed hormones are coming along years after I was supposed to really feel them. Making you worry hasn't been kind, so I apologize most profusely!" Roy said, offering the most graceful standing bow he had ever produced. He hit his head into the table from stretching too far down. "Eargh!"

Eirika failed to stifle a laugh. "Hee hee! Then again, your juvenile moments are kind of endearing..."

"Y-You think so? Phew... Marth always complained I got on his nerves... that man-princessy dastard... ugh, I don't like THAT mental image!" Roy said jestingly. Being with her eased his thoughts of Marth's fate a little...

"...You miss your friend. I can't blame you, I feel the same. I often wonder what the people back in Renais are doing, with only my brother ruling currently. All of our army comrades parted on the best of terms, but I still would like to meet them again... I will maybe do so one day. I feel sorry for you though... since you are an ancient spirit, your realm must have changed enormously while you've been gone."

"...You sadly share my fate, dear princess." Roy thought. He suddenly noticed his breathing was quick, and that his eyes flicked around the camp speedily.

Forcing himself to obey Ike's calming advice, he breathed slowly.

"I never want her to suffer as much as I did... nor Ike, or the few other spirits we have here either... that moment when you realize your world falls apart, and you crawl through the debris, slowly finding your way again..." He said quietly to himself. Several times now he had convinced himself she was better off oblivious. And yet he was not sure that was fair, because he cared greatly for her.

Roy debated deeply within himself, receiving a headache for the effort.

"She can truly understand me if she breaks, yet that might destroy our friendship. She'd blame me for everything..."

Or would she? He recalled their first meeting from some months ago. She forgave him then...

_"Hey, watch that suit! Frederick needs it back in pristine condition. Not that I care, but he might take offense if you get it dirty!" Chrom yelled out to Roy, who carried Fred's finest suit to the laundry tent. The Great Knight was really strange in the fact that he wore a tuxedo under his armor. Roy just rolled his eyes and kept walking with the expensive garment. Right before the laundry tent was a pool of mud._

_"What weird customs these Ylisseans have! Suits under armor? PFT!" Roy said, walking around the puddle and inside. Right in the entrance, he bumped into someone carrying a set of women's dresses in her arms. She dropped it all into the mud puddle, and fell in herself. "Oops... hey, are you alright? I'm so sorry! Please, let me give you a hand!"_

_The woman, covered in mud, reached out to grab his hand. She got up, looking solemn. "That took a few hours to clean. I'm sure I can do it again, though."_

_"Oh, gracious no, milady. I'll do it for you. I..." Roy paused._

_Her face was gorgeous. When she had found a towel to wipe off most of the dirt, he was dumbstruck. Light azure-blue hair, a slim red jacket with golden shoulder pads and a small breastplate, complete with a short white skirt and red boots. It was like she'd stepped out from a fairy tale._

_"Agh-agh-I-I-I could do this, too! Then we're even!" He smiled, and tossed himself into the puddle. The woman laughed at his silliness._

_"No, d-don't do that! It only serves to make us both look bad!" She said, snorting._

_Roy got up, mud in his teeth. "Rest assured, me fair damsel. I pay my debts. Blech, I hope there was only mud in this puddle..."_

_"Oh, really? Then get to cleaning my dresses that you made her drop, Roy!" Lissa said, coming out of the tent. "Eirika, let me deal with this doofus."_

_"Alright, lady Lissa. It's okay. Hey, I forgive you. This isn't worth fighting over. See you... Roy!" She smiled._

_Roy looked after Eirika as she headed to the female baths. "...So kind. And then, by contrast..."_

_He turned, pointing to Lissa, who immediately shoved his head back into the mud for the smug comment._

"Ehhhh... Then again, that wasn't the best example of forgiving a truly horrendous error..." Roy thought.

Eirika observed his face. It twisted from happy to sad, angry to calm, and on into something that you could mostly see performed by actors who had trained their facial muscles to form ridiculous grimaces for comedy plays. All the while, a furious blush exuded heat from his cheeks. He snapped back to the present with a sheepish grin, a slack gaze down at the table. What a fool he must look like during his thinking...

She misinterpreted his nervosity for simple bashfulness, leading her visage to appear flushed too. Leaning on her hands against the table, the Princess of Renais assumed a coy, mildly flirty stance.

"Darn, I'm screwing myself over... well, it's only gonna get worse unless I actually LOOK at her when I talk. That hug after the Plegian fight, and those worried conversations... I thought they meant more, but after this blunder, I'm certain she'll just want me as her friend!" He exclaimed disappointedly in his mind. Then he noticed her slowly blinking eyelids. Her eyes themselves pierced into his upon contact. Realization struck him like Sully's frying pan after a failed dinner. "Well, by the Archsage's beard... I'm such AN ASS!"

Lilina. Shanna. Sue. Lalum. To only mention a few girls he'd known. He realized why their behaviors had been so odd back when he commanded an army in centuries past. They all liked him. Eirika did so too, yet his blunt mind could never read girls properly at the time.

"You know... I do not care if I'm alive, and you're some card spirit... I like you all the same, Roy. Only my general and friend Seth has helped me equally much... you're a real charming guy." She said, sounding more open, yet with a regal tone.

The young Pheraean gulped, smiling carefully. "...Can cards feel this care? Can I really be sure I haven't just felt some imitation of the feeling...? I don't know... but isn't love a worthy thing to risk finding that out for?!" He thought, and grasped her right hand in a moment. She was taken aback by this abruptness, but didn't struggle to break free. Roy trembled.

"I'm a tool for war. So are you, but amidst this, we can still-... oh, crudknuckles!" He blurted out, tipping his chair backwards with a crash. Misspeaking... that was the only thing he feared to do at this moment, and he'd done it.

No longer looking flustered, the Princess froze still on her seat, a blue aura washing over her body. The seal... if strained during moments of strong emotion, it could break. Roy watched in horror, hoping to Saint Elimine that Hubba had the decency to better reinforce the spirit cards of women.

No such luck, as she grabbed her head, interrupting the short-term mind wipe. Like having an arrow shot through her head, she fell down with a pained shriek, tipping the table.

"Gods have mercy... Eirika! Are you alrigh-!" Roy said as he sprung over to her. The last word was cut off by a slamming punch to his gut. She got up in a bewildered state, head still hurting, and looked with tearful eyes at him. Without a word, she stormed off outside camp, not bringing anything with her. Roy reached a hand out in vain, still sitting with the other one clenched around his belly.

Stahl was pushed aside from his post as camp guard when the Princess ran outside the temporary, quickly-raised wooden palisade. He yelled after her. "P-Princess! Don't leave camp, there were reports of Risen in the fields! We haven't cleared them out yet..."

Same as Roy. Dead. No hope. What to do? Even worse than demons. This made a strange and horrible lot of sense... Thoughts would not stop swirling in her head. She stopped on a grass field far outside camp.

Roy wouldn't stop chasing her now. In such a liable mood, she could get really hurt. The Princess looked at the horizon, wondering desperately if a way out of this lay in other lands. Irrational thinking was natural in this situation, but not helpful.

"Roy." She turned around, knowing the approaching rustle was caused by him. "Leave me be. You just brought something upon me which was not needed..."

The lordling boy halted two meters from her. Knowing full well he had both wronged and helped her, he pleaded his case, this time fully clear on what to say.

"...You spoke of deceit in our last conversation, when Ike and I had the snot beaten out of us. Of how you never wanted to put your allies in peril again, by trusting a friend who'd betray you. Of how... you were gullible. Even if you once were, you can make the right decisions now, around new companions. I'd never turn away from, deceive or insult you. I told you because I care, painful though it may be! We haven't gotten to know each other for real yet... so will you give me the chance to, Eirika? I'll never have my buddy Marth back like he once was... but I'd rather perish than lose you as well!"

Roy looked at her half-open eyes, as they both stood on the sand-mixed grass plain, near each other. She thought of how this folly of hers continued. First trusting her friend Lyon, secretly possessed by the Demon King of Magvel, and now running off from her new friends... some cards were too stupid to make decisions, like hers. Shouldn't she just leave, and burden them all no more?

Yet... her army had won against the demons, hadn't it? Dropping the burden of her failures, she was still good, containing the cherished memory of a beloved leader. If Roy, a very young Lord could handle the truth and believe in her, could she as well?

"I'll be the lion that roars aloud to send fright into your enemies, and the meek kitten that curls up in your lap on a cold winter's eve! ...Good grief, that sounded so corn-!" Roy squirmed in embarrassment, but could not finish because of a pair of decisive lips closing over his for a few seconds, which then let go with a grateful, passionate smirk.

"Since I came here, you've only treated me with respect. You did so now too, even though you knew that the truth would hurt. I'll give us both a chance... we share a fate, after all." She said warmly.

"Ugrrghallrl..."

"What an... interesting response, milord." She said, feeling the moment was nearly ruined.

"That was a Risen. When we stop looking into each other's eyes, we'll find ourselves in a spot of trouble." Roy laughed anxiously.

Around fifteen of the undead warriors had emerged from the ground, looking even more scary in full daylight. Axes, spears and swords... all pointed at them. Camp was a distance away, and even as Stahl saw them get surrounded, he couldn't get help out there in time despite running fast to his fellow guards. Then he had an idea involving the nearby Pegasi pen.

"Okay, I finally connect with you, and the undead want to chop us down to size. I won't have that!" Roy said in frustration, sword at the ready for the first assault.

The Chief, an undead Anima magic user in charge of the corpse force roared out stray sentences, most of which were "kill them" and "add to army". Its decaying red robes fluttered violently from a sudden wind, sweeping across the field from the sandy expanses behind them.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not your average human anymore! Just try to resurrect MY corpse!" Roy said, using his sword on an approaching lance zombie. The blade struck into its chest, and cleaved it in two with a hard slice. The enemy numbers started to surround him, until Eirika drew her own blade, a Rapier. With a pointy tip, it swiftly needled into the necromantic core of the monsters, making them disappear in a pile of purple ashes.

"Take out the commander! The rest of t-them will be at a loss for a moment!" A friendly voice cried from above, accompanied by a fierce neigh. Eirika looked up for a moment, about to smile at the sight of Florina and Micaiah arriving. Stahl had found those two, and Florina had understood the urgency in his voice. The Princess was struck with an axe to the chest just then. It could have been fatal, but her tiny breastplate only just deflected the blow. Roy was upon the attacker in a mere moment nonetheless, cutting the Risen to a mish-mash of parts. Micaiah jumped off the Pegasus at low altitude, and fired off some Elthunder at an enemy Cavalier who fell off his horse with a scraping crash, first managing to cut a gash across her shoulder.

The foe's numbers dropped, and the Chief itself approached. Tossing away a violent Wilderwind, it intended to make the shredding twister rip them up. Roy was caught in it, and flew up into the air, bruises and cuts appearing from the supersonic speed of the wind carrying his body. Florina grabbed him before the spell had its full effect, and landed him back on the ground. Raising her spear, she flew straight at the undead mage... having momentarily forgotten how susceptible Pegasi were to Wind spells in the heat of battle.

"DRAT! H-Huey, please dodge!" She begged, and strained the reins of her mount to the limits, going lower to avoid a violent crash. The spell was nearly fired when Micaiah had snuck up on the rotting spellcaster, bashing her tome against the back of its head. It was staggered, and Florina could strike with her Steel lance head on. The Risen were now broken.

"How careless of these things..." She commented, putting pressure on her glowing wound. "What is this... why's there no blood?"

"Thank you! Timely rescues like these are most appreciated!" Eirika said in gratitude, helping a shaking Florina off her Pegasus. "Are you both okay? Oh, and Roy!"

"I'm just dandy. Aside from some skin that feels like it's been cut with a huge paper. Ladies, I... think you need an explanation. For that, too." He pointed to Micaiah's wounded shoulder.

"It's damn obvious you went out here with Eirika to have some alone time." Micaiah said, laughing at Roy's quickly flustered face. She winced from the gash.

"Well, that's only part of it. We'll get you patched up, Micky. Then I think that Roy has a point. I can't be the only one of us who should know." The three girls exchanged looks. Two of them were puzzled, and the third formulated a plan to ease them into the truth. Roy figured it was impossible to "ease" anyone into being a spirit. But perhaps every Einherjar still deserved the true story of their existence. Strength through pain, like Ike had told him...

They all walked back to their simple camp abodes, first explaining the encounter to Frederick who was currently in charge of armed operations and scouting.

Ike sat nearby, listening in on the Princess as she slowly made the truth dawn on her fellow female fighters in a nearby tent. Two short screams were heard, and minutes later, sad voices wondering what they would do next, with mixed sobbing and shouting. He shook his head, and left his quarters. They wouldn't find HIM and figure out the truth about his condition.

"Roy didn't have to tell her... guess it's all part of that "loving devotion" stuff. Anyway, next training regimen..." He said, entering the camp sparring area.

"...I would perhaps have done the same, if it had been Elincia..." He said to himself before his first precise assault on a dummy.

"...Well, who's to say you won't ever find a lady like her, Ike? Unless you accidentally strike them first!" Roy said teasingly, offering to spar for a while, and drain himself of stressful energy. Ike twirled around. So, he heard that final bit with her name?

"Well, alright! Time to give your smug red head a "friendly" beatdown!"

Author Note:

Sorry for the delayed update! Real life just barges in whenever it feels like!

Well... I'm not used to writing about love and such things. But I can certainly try! That's the only way to get better. It's probably true that I need to carefully watch the angst level in each chapter, though...

Yeah, so, Roy and Eirika. An odd pairing, maybe. After checking a bit, I found Eirika is considered a below decent Lord before promotion (that's pretty similar to Roy). Maybe I put them together because they can cope with insufficent skills as a team, becoming stronger? I kinda like it... and even if Eirika doesn't get a huge role further on, I still felt like I couldn't leave the girls hanging in the background forever. They deserved truth about themselves!

For those who aren't satisfied with this: there's another (more important) chapter ready right now, so I'll let that one slip onto the site as well.


	16. Ch 15: Ignorance is truly a mercy?

Chapter 15: Ignorance is truly... a mercy?

The team of six made good time on this day, shaking off the memories of the past night, and eventually reached another set of cliffs further south. In a deep cave among the rock walls they found a steel-grey archway, with runes carved on the supporting pillars.

"Here it is. The Outrealm gate of Plegia. Nearly never used since construction." Chiki said. "The sands came and took away all knowledge of this place... almost."

"Mighty fine stuff." Gaius commented. "But I thought there would be locks of the NORMAL kind?"

"There may yet be." Chrom added. "And now we'll soon face that moronic old perv again..."

Before they could go any further, Gaius signaled them to stop. Several holes could be seen in the floor, not very big, but in a distinct pattern. Spike traps. "Take a step here, and you'll lose a foot. Walk around them slowly. I'll keep watch for more."

The group walked slowly around the holes, closer to the arch. The next trap was more surprising.

"GYAGH!" Lissa yelled, having seen an arrow fly past her face. "H-Holes in the walls?!"

"Stay still! I'll find the disabling mechanism!" Gaius said, sneaking past more suspicious floor tiles and avoiding a few wall arrows. A small rock in the wall was not the same color as the mountain, and, obvious as it was, that was the only place which could hold the switch. Gaius reached it, but had to duck quickly when a pillar of flame shot out from the ceiling, right near where his head had been while he stood up seconds ago. Finally pressing the switch, he sighed, slumping down. "I need to get paid more."

Chiki then stepped forth, chanting some words in a dead language that made the arches glow. Even if the traps were relatively easy to avoid, no one could make use of this particular gate without activating it properly, unlike the gateway found in southern Ylisse. A swirling blue portal appeared, showing fleeting images of castles, swamps, battlefields and other places. She spoke strange words once more, to adjust the gate to the right destination. "Here we go. Marth first, since it's your wish."

Marth entered the portal slowly, not used to the tingling one felt upon entry. He found himself in a messy living room, with a stoked fire and portraits on the walls. A typical old man, bent over with a bald head and white chin-beard got up from his chair with a jolt. He wore a dark robe right then, a morning coat.

"WHUZAAAT?! My dear, oh good gravy, what in Jugdral is going on? Ah, Marth! Looking stylish, as always. Anyone else with you... like a lady with a nice pinchable... cheek!" He said, changing his sentence. "Or LADIES..."

"Shut up, you old wart." Chrom said rudely when he and the others entered, filling up the small living room. The old man was such a pain that he had proven before that he earned it, every time. "We're here on a mission. To help Marth regain his composure."

"Compos... ure? Oh, gods... you recruited Chiki, and she did it, didn't she? That card in particular... I knew she might break it." Hubba sighed, leaning on his staff and studying Marth. "The real Marth was aware his female friend could suffer... but his skills were unique. He felt he had no choice. Are you aware of what I say, Marth?"

"Yes. I've been to hell and back multiple times since my seal was busted." He said. "So I need a memory wipe. Restore my basic functions as a spirit card. Only Marth's old memories should remain with me, for the mission's sake. And reinforce the seal, too. I never want to break again."

"...Well, you cards always went funky at times. My ancestors left notes saying that the memories of the heroes could try to be more than they were. But maybe you've still had a good run, aside from your grief!" Hubba smiled. "...Oh well. I can dig up something. The right spells and incantations, and you'll only know you're Marth again."

He walked over to Chrom. "Oh, by the way, I want to thank you again for those times you've helped me defeat the ones who would misuse the Einherjar, young Prince... and sorry for the massive confusion caused by those fights. The circumstances back then were... weird."

"...Yes? Anything else?" Chrom asked, since the man had gone silent for a minute, facing him with closed eyes.

"...WHUUHUUBAAA!" He yelled, making Chrom fall backwards into Virion. "I fell asleep. It comes with old age. I feel SO good that I'm fortunately still handsome." He smirked. "Right, lady Chiki?"

"Hubba, what the heck?! YOU BLASTED GEEZE-" Chrom began yelling, really tired of these old man charades. He had experienced them a few times... and that was enough. He was silenced by Chiki's raised hand.

"More like deluded." She said seriously. "And stop staring... or else."

"Hmm? But you are so magnificent! If you do not like attention, then why did you let my grandfather make an Einherjar of your mind? It should be around here, I've simply forgotten where... Truly, you are a wondrous creature!" The old man said, like it was okay to peep.

"Indeed she is! Gaius, ANOTHER SONG!" Virion clapped.

"Quite so!" Gaius agreed, and tried to open his mouth, before Chiki squeezed it shut.

"Focus. And don't mention my Einherjar. I want to forget ever allowing making it..." She said in annoyance. "Help Marth now, and let us leave. For better or worse."

"Hrm... yes. Apologies." Hubba said, scratching his cheek. After tapping his staff on the floor twice, the living room suddenly changed to a white void, with a circular stone altar being the only thing visible to the six comrades and Hubba. "Here we are. The ancient Site of Inscription. I know only snippets of what made the Einherjar TRULY powerful, but I should be able to help Marth in a flash." He said, coughing nastily a few times. "One day you will come here, Prince Chrom... or, I hope so. Your skill should be preserved. Or, like my good old cousin Wailon did, I can snag the memories from dead heroes as they wander eternity in the misty afterlife! THAT took some skill... and the ghosts objected heavily! Which is why most of my family are sensible enough to ASK first."

"...Perhaps. But once again, FOCUS, DAMN IT!" Chrom said loudly in frustration.

"Pft. Kids these days. Marth... step up to the altar, and face me from the other side."

Marth and Hubba stood on opposite sides of the altar. When the old man began a low chant, Marth felt numb. He froze in place, and became nearly fully unaware of what was going on.

"There. I can work on him without causing his mind harm." Hubba said, shifting his hands over the altar, mumbling.

A jolt of energy surged into his body from Marth suddenly, staggering him. The rest of the group looked on nervously.

"Oh no... it's worse than I thought!" Hubba said, sweating from the effort and returning to before the altar. "He has burned himself out... he would have disintegrated soon if he hadn't come. The cards can't take such despair, eating away at them. I must repair him immediately... the fool. I'll need to remake the seal to be more powerful." Hubba muttered.

The old man saw the Einherjar only as tools, because he had never seen any other side of them, thinking their personalities were hollow shades of the past. Chiki knew it was different, but he would never listen. Stubborn old coot...

"So he has to stay? Can we have him back in service soon?" Chrom asked, looking tense.

"...I'm sorry. But even after repairs, I would only send him with you in an emergency. Marth's card is now too damaged for duty."

One could drop a piece of dust on the floor, and it would be heard through the shocked silence.

"He'll remain forever?" Chiki said, disbelieving. "You can't do that! You can't see what progress they make if they travel with people! They live again!"

"Such nonsense, fair Chiki. They are only imprints. I could give you a spare, but instead..." He snickered. "I think this will suffice. A better "thank you" for all your past services."

He pulled a card covered in runes on the back from his robe pocket. The name was written in another world's language, so no one present could read it besides Hubba.

"If memory serves, this Dark wizard was an ally of young Roy's father. One who brought down another Dark mage... or was it... wait, does his portrait have a monocle? No, never mind. He's powerful! Though quite... odd-tempered, so try to be nice." Hubba said, placing the card in Chrom's hand.

"...THIS... you think this will replace him? Your lack of tact is insulting! I... he's our friend..." Chrom began protesting, but realized his responsibilities went beyond those of a single person. "...If I must. We have a desperate war to wage. If this can replace Marth's prowess in battle, then I'll have to take it."

The group was very silent for a while. Looking at the card of a person in dark purple robes, Chrom did not see the individual's face. A black grime obscured the mage's facial features, and could not be rubbed off. He then switched his eyes to Marth, still frozen in place.

"Marth... we will never forget you. Hero-King... ancestor... someone who could kick my backside in a spar. You didn't deserve my anger, even from the start... I'm sorry for being unfair." He said with a sad expression. "I'll make sure to get the rest of us through this, for you and everyone else. Come... we must return."

"Chrom...?" Chiki said, knowing how this would play out, but wanting to ask all the same.

"...This is farewell. Let's cut the end short. I have an army in need of leadership." Chrom said resolutely. But in his mind, behind a solid wall of certainty, Chrom could not stop blaming himself and the old man silently. "...Hubba... why did your family drag the past with them? Marth only suffered from this..." He thought.

Everyone followed his lead, somberly, through a portal Hubba summoned up back to the desert. Before it closed, Gaius had a few final words for Hubba.

"Hey... you're wrong. You always were, ya geezer. See you, Marth... I'm still... not a friend." He finished, with an unreadable expression.

The portal closed, and Hubba returned slowly to the Einherjar.

"...Humph! Arrogant thief. If he was a lady, I'd... blech! Never mind... lemme see, Marth... that seal spell should be here somewh-... BY SAINT LATONA AND HIS MERRY BAND OF WAR CLERICS! That dark mage card was busted, too! That's why it was in my pocket... well, he's a hero, so... wait, was he? Goodness me..."

Hubba dawdled around, forgetting things one by one, until returning to the altar. "No worries. They can handle it. I can see why they liked Marth so much... my grandpa told me he was a nice guy in life... so... ZZZZZ..."

He fell asleep while standing again. Marth remained frozen for a little while. When the spell went out, he stumbled around, dizzy. Regaining his concentration, he remembered he heard some of the words Hubba spoke, but could not object.

"Wait! Wait... why did you all go so quickly...? ...Am I really that defective?" He asked himself, sensing a figurative, heavy lump in his chest.

Now his friends had left him... he would be missed, but they had reason to get a replacement for him. If he was so damaged... he would simply have to live in ignorance for his own good. But Hubba was asleep, and a snap of Marth's fingers did nothing to wake the old one. He was stuck in this limbo place until Hubba could unpress his own snooze button. Or was he?

"I have all the time in the world now... might as well explore." He said casually. If things were to work out now, then his fears were unfounded. His only regret was to never help his friends again. He walked around, whistling a tune that Marth had heard played during the victory parade in Akaneia's capital, past the second death of Medeus. A very hopeful piece of music.

"Is this it?" He thought, finding a swirling gateway, barely visible. If Hubba wanted to, he could find him wherever he went. So he entered, not scared of anything. Just calm.

He found himself in a busy town square. People milled about, gossiping and chatting, buying food and delivering things. A stone castle looked over the landscape from atop a hill. Marth recognized it in surprise. Castle Talys. But this was all fake, right? A memory landscape. Unsure, he started walking about, not noticed by anyone. On a fountain's edge further up sat two kids, talking eagerly. Marth was shocked to recognize his young self, dressed in a blue shirt and shorts, and... Sheeda, in a beige dress and blue shoes. That day long ago, both of the royal younglings had taken a break from tutoring. Jeigan would find them soon, but before that, they talked. Marth went over to them, sitting down next to his young self.

"Why is dad such a jerk? He never lets us go anywhere without guards when I visit Altea, or you visit here..." Sheeda said, crossing her arms. "This is way more fun."

"Yeah. Jeigan is gonna flip when he finds me here." The young Marth said, kicking his feet casually in the air. "...You won't tease me, right?"

"Why would I do that? OH!" Sheeda said, noticing the golden tiara on Marth's forehead. "That looks funny on you!"

"See? My sister thinks it's a good look, but I hate it..."

"I don't hate it. It's just so... shiny, I guess. A bit girly."

"I'm a man!" Marth said, puffing up his chest and flexing his tiny muscles. Older Marth laughed beside him. Around Sheeda he had been more confident. And felt friendship...

"Sure. But you act like a lady sometimes!" Sheeda teased.

"Take it back!" Marth laughed, splashing water on her. The water went right through the grown-up Marth. That was enough evidence to convince the spirit he was walking through his own mind. How confusing...

After a small struggle, both kids were soaked.

"Phew! That was fun!" Marth said. Sheeda didn't look like she'd thought the same.

"You're mean sometimes, Marth. Be nicer." She said, eyes all watery from tears.

"Oh... I'm so sorry. My sincerest apologies." He bowed, and kissed her small hand. "That was no way to treat a lady of your fine caliber."

She lit up a smile. "That's better. You're learning to kiss up to nobles from your dad, huh?"

"Yeah. It's stupid, but he doesn't yell at me when I talk like that. Besides... I could never talk badly to you." He smirked.

"Marth!" Sheeda said, hugging him. "You're such a dummy... but my best pal, too."

"Eh heh... yeah." Young Marth blushed. "We'll always be friends!"

Phantom Marth felt a sting of longing when he saw the two... but thought it was enough that the real Marth had lived this moment, and been happy. Little did that runt of a prince know he was going to be a "Hero" someday. Just then, a blonde-haired, middle-aged knight in purple armor appeared, looking very frazzled. Jeigan had only just started getting big streaks of white in his hair. Some of them existed because of Marth.

"Ah, crap..." Both Marths said.

Before he could hear a nostalgic telling off from Jeigan, older Marth was moved somewhere else.

Onto an evening battlefield, covered in thin smoke.

The sharp contrast between the two places threw him off, and Marth quickly looked around for familiar things. He saw his old comrades fighting soldiers from Gra, a former ally of Altea turned traitors under the deceptive leadership of King Jiol. Many men fell around him, regular soldiers from both sides. The best units, his personal friends, stood valiantly. And the real Marth himself sprung into battle, striking with such force the Gra soldiers retreated on sight. The deserters were not pursued. An hour passed, and the battle was finished. Groans and screams of pain were heard all over. The Altean force went around, healing the wounded enemies or giving them mercy blows if their wounds were too severe. The Prince and his phantom walked about, horrified. This battle had cost too many lives...

"You... URRRGH!" A Gra soldier said in pain to the Prince. Marth bent down, along with his spirit. "I... am the commanding officer. My name is... grugh... Maxwell. You destroyed my men... I... can't forgive you for that. But... promise me something."

"Healers!" The Prince cried out. "Help is on the way, Maxwell. Stay with me, I have no wish to see more bloodshed. Please... your superior bears fault for this war... live, man!"

"I am spent. I will die here... my side is torn up. Promise me one thing. You seem kind, and it is unfair that this war has befallen us all... and so, if you live through it... no matter how many lives you must take... live on for your friends... and enemies. They deserved their chances too, and when they're dead... you have to live for them as well. Promise me to enjoy life... forgive my strange speech here... but on his death bed, a man says strange things... promise."

The Prince looked torn. This had been one of his earlier and bloodier skirmishes outside his main campaign, and he was grieved beyond reason.

"I-I promise. I can't falter... not only my life is at stake. I will live for them all. For you too."

"That royal bastard never told us of your power... King Jiol will regret sending my people to their deaths. May someone unite us... and foil the hopes of greed..."

He breathed out heavily once, and died. Marth looked at his princely, past self. He looked lifeless. It had been a heavy conversation. Next thing he knew, Marth was yet again moving on to a new place.

"Come! Let's settle this!"

His own voice once again spoken through another mouth, he looked upon himself. Some years had passed, and the future King of all Akaneia stood before a gargantuan dragon, dark and menacing. The second and final battle with Medeus, the Dark Dragon. The spirit remembered all too well the sacrifices made to get here... but it was worth it.

Lunging ahead, the past Marth struck Falchion into the dragon's side, opening a large wound. Medeus roaringly responded by clawing at the prince, who was hit across the back, his concealed light plate armor buckling beneath dark talons. He coughed a bit of blood, but did not hesitate to strike again. His army looked on from a distance, aware of their fate should he fall. The healers at their disposal tried long-distance staves to heal him, but it was a fruitless business when facing something this relentless.

"Darkness forever taints your hearts, humans! No light may finish it, nor may you finish ME!" Medeus spoke loudly, swiping Marth off his feet with his enormous tail.

The prince and his spirit looked at Medeus, talking at the same time. "...'Tis true, about our hearts. But there is more to it, to our gathered determination. Light or no... we have overcome so much to defeat you... and we will never stop until the sun shines over a land of fortune, a world where you are but a bad MEMORY!"

Stepping up, another healing boost hit Marth from his sister Elice's nearby staff, and he sprung up, rushing into danger. Medeus's Dark Breath hit him, tearing at his clothes and skin, yet he persevered, driving the Falchion deep into the dragon's lowered throat, and then into it's heart. Medeus explained why his defeat was not absolute soon after, in his death throes. Marth's spirit knew that his foe's monologue had come true, and evil was spreading again in the future. But there were brave people around to stop it this time, too. Chrom and Robin wouldn't let the world go down that easily!

Memories flashed past once again, and the jarring change of scenery confused Spirit Marth, until he opened his eyes again.

"Wonder where this is?" The spirit card said. "Oh! It's the... wedding. This happened after Medeus died for the second time, and all of Akaneia put its trust in me to lead them..."

Hundreds of guests stood gathered before a long table in the Altean castle courtyard. A staircase before the gate was the center of attention. Down it walked Sheeda, in a white bride's dress. Her long blue hair waved in the slight wind coming in from the open castle portcullis. The crowned King Marth stood before a set-up altar in his best royal attire, a blue jacket with shoulder pads, and white pants lined with gold trim. The phantom saw Marth's friends, so many of them. All of who would throw their lives down for him... except, Chiki was missing. She couldn't stand to see this, heartbroken. When a priest had finished his sermons, the couple kissed. Spirit Marth warmed up inside, remembering that kiss like it had touched his own lips. Then the real King spoke shortly.

"Let this union herald a new age! Altea and Talys will remain allies until the end of time! All of you, my friends, allies, former enemies... I thank you all. If you had not been beside me, I would have failed. You kept me on the right path... and even when I die, I will always recall your friendship, across unlimited distances. But the future has yet to come, so instead let us rejoice... indeed, let us celebrate!"

The crowd cheered, and Jeigan, looking even older than before, smiled proudly at Marth. The new King then went on to explain his fascination with sandwiches, and made one just for Sheeda. She took one bite, but spat it out in his face with quick apologies. She always did hate pickled onions... everyone just laughed, and partied on.

"Those times were good... even if they're not mine. It doesn't feel bad letting go for some reason... new times of happiness can be had. Sumia was right. I just kept spinning around for nothing, being thick-headed. Losing things is part of life... but now I've lost it all. They can never see me again, and vice versa. I'm..."

"You are different." Hubba said, appearing next to the spirit.

"I, um, PRETENDED to sleep, so I could follow you. This is all part of your memories, obviously. The Chamber allows me to visit and work through the experiences of all heroes, examining them thoroughly. Guess you found one of the portals I opened into your mind, before I got distracted."

He sighed once, letting out a small chuckle.

"Chiki never gives me enough credit. I knew you could grow... the reason why I never say that is because I grew too fond of some Einherjar, and told them the truth. They were nearly ruined, and for some reason, I have been unable to repair them. Not even mind wipes worked... Better they be tools, like intended. But you were alive once, and it really eats at my heart to see such gallant beings... fade away. On behalf of my forefathers... I apologize if we've ever caused you harm." He said, looking grimly serious and regretful, uncommon for him.

"Hubba..." Marth said. So the old one wasn't acting cold because he didn't value his cards... he had also lost much.

"It's a lonely life on the fringes of existence, hence why I turned to cards for company. Only the occasional traveler between dimensions comes here... like sweet Anna... ooh, the curves... wonder why she suddenly stopped her visits?"

Marth's face scrunched up in discomfort when Hubba reminisced Anna's "curves", tilting back and forth with a flustered face, eyes closed.

"Anna can travel dimensions?" He said, changing the questionable things the old man thought of.

"Yes. She and her many sisters."

"She has sist... never mind." Marth sighed. THAT sounded weird. Yet strangely familiar... hadn't he seen one of her ancestors on his ancient quest? Mentioning something about "suspending"?

"Plus, I was envious... Marth got such a fine, sexy wife. Only natural that I'd want to treat guys such as you like dirt." Hubba said smugly, eyeing the bride Sheeda. Marth punted him swiftly on the head, angry for that statement. "Ouch... anyway... I got the ritual all ready. Want to erase your file... err, memory?"

"...This is the point of no return. I wanted this for many days, and now, since I can't go back it seems pointless to have another lost time to mope over... alright Hubba. I will once again be known only as... King Marth.

Author Note:

The events of Marth's past are my own interpretation of canon circumstances. He and Sheeda were childhood friends, and they did get married in the end. And then there's my own original event, namely that battlefield scene. I don't know a lot about the events of the first game, except the beginning and ending, so I squeezed in one of my own...

I think I read that Jeigan/Jagen should be dead at the part where Marth is married, but it felt fair to give him a chance to see his young master become the great ruler he was destined to be, and find happiness.

I've wondered for a while how I should do this part of the story... having the main protagonist turned back into a plain weapon? Also, I know Chrom has seemed like a douche all-around, and he kind of was. His expectations for the Einherjar were too high, but now he's realized what's been lost.

Whether it's lost forever... well, that's for the next chapter to tell, methinks. See you then!

Oh wait, there's one more thing to say. The weekly uploads I mentioned previously won't work with my increasingly difficult studies and other activities. So I'll have to upload whenever my head has cooled down for the day, which will be at random (I'm very sorry for this...). It gets harder to find time for this stuff...


	17. Ch 16: Quintessential menace

Author Note:

Recommendation: To fully get the references and events in this and future chapters, you might want to brush up on your FE 7 history knowledge. Or you can be surprised! Whatever floats yer boat. Please review if you like it!

On another note, things are desperate. I feel like an idiot! Stories, games, music, drawing... those fun, awesome things, they've distracted me, and made me lose progress in real life. I had too much of it to snap clear! I need to lay stuff on ice until I'm back on track. So this is the last entry for a long while, I think. Many apologies to those who actually like my story, and have been with me until now... I appreciate your interest.

Chapter 16: Quintessential menace

Roy had sat for a long time in the mess tent, wondering what the result would be like. Marth would return, unbreakable and never questioning how people saw him again.

"It was still a bonehead move. He had so much, and just threw it away... yet what friend am I if I opposed his greatest wish?" He asked Lon'qu, who was tending a frying pan with pork.

"It is honorable, giving up your independence in order to stay focused." He replied. "During my years as West Ferox's Champion I only focused on my missions, training myself depending on the circumstances I could encounter. Only the orders and their completion mattered, as well as increasing my skill to serve better, until my post could be filled by another aspiring Champion.

"But did you want to? It seems pretty thankless..."

"Of course, I had some small moments of selfish indulgence. They are required to stay sane. Food, first-rate equipment... w-women. The last part seldom got further than hello and goodbye." He admitted slowly.

"Hah! By the way, Marth gave you tips, right? Have you spoken to Teach?"

"...Yes. In short time, he has explained many things. I only believe two: his nostrils can fit a sword hilt, and he is blatantly unaware that the sun doesn't actually sink into the earth at night. The rest... well, Marth tried to pull a fast one before he left. Good thing I'm no fool."

"Florina's here." Roy said convincingly. "Hey, you look good today! Lon'qu, say hello to this adorable young lady!"

"Oh please... I will never fall for your juvenile tricks again. When I turn around, I will only see a BWARGH!"

Roy wasn't lying, and Lon'qu looked like he'd just died, holding the frying pan in a stiff, near post-mortem grip. His face was white instead of red this time.

"Geez, he's gonna be a good role model if he has kids... oh wait, right." Roy thought. If he couldn't even _see_ some women without a heart attack, then...

"I-I-I am so sorry, sir Lon'qu. I j-just came over here with a list of suggestions for cooking... did I mess up with something?" She said weakly. Her eyes were very watery, and she was about to turn around.

Smacking Lon'qu on the head, Roy got the lethal swordsman to snap out of it. "GET. YOUR. ACT. TOGETHER." He spelt out.

"Eh... hrm. Yes, thank you. Your service is appreciated." Lon'qu finally said, without stammering. He took the list, and also apologized for the time when he had screamed before. Florina looked relieved, and now blushed instead, taking the apology and running off.

"See? The new ladies man, huh!" Roy said, lightly poking his elbow into Lon'qu's side.

"Get out, Roy. I need some peace." He said seriously.

"Fine... you dirty rascal, you!" He jested, running away outside to avoid a flying knife. He saw the small group return from the desert just then. "Wow... they're back already? It only took two days! Hey, guys! Let's see... eh-hrm! I understand we have a new companion. May you introduce him?"

"Yes, Roy." Chrom said, looking calm while unsaddling the pack mule. The group of five returned with one extra person in deep purple robes. "Here. This is..."

"Wait, Marth didn't wear robes. Anyway, nice to meet YOUHUHUHU!" Roy stuttered in fright when he reached out his hand to the stranger, and saw his face.

"Good day, young sir. I... am Nergal."

Some sand blew by, and Roy stared disbelievingly at the quite scary-looking man.

"I have come from Elibe to fight. From what these fine people told me you are also Elibean, sir Roy. The son of Eliwood. He was a fine man, stout and trustworthy." Nergal said, almost over the top hospitable. However, as soon as the others did not look at them, the Dark mage looked down at Roy with an acid glance, twisting his face into a sinister grin.

"N... Nergal? The dreaded warlock who wanted to drain the force of life from the world, to open the Dragon's Gate and take the quintessence of all dragons, becoming a god? That utter maniac? How the hell did he get his own card?! Father always warned about men such as him. In turn, I must warn the others, this card is beyond dangerous!" Roy thought quickly, and was about to open his mouth, when the sorcerer pointed a finger at him, making the boy lose his ability of speech. "Damn this devilry! My voice!"

"It seems young Roy has a problem with his throat. Perhaps you have something for him?" Nergal said kindly.

Roy viewed the returned party with panic. He had no way to show that Nergal was a rotten egg now. The others simply shrugged at his stressful look. Chrom ordered him to show Nergal around, and Roy could only comply for now. Silently, he walked beside the dread magician.

"Little sheep awaiting the slaughter... how ironic that they're named Shepherds, eh? Can't see the wolf in their midst!" Nergal laughed silently, looking around. "I see your intentions. When the spell wears off, you'll tell them, and they will believe you. But not before I recover a modicum of my strength... then you'll see."

Roy gritted his teeth hard. If he attacked Nergal it would only give the mage time enough to do something sinister when Roy's allies investigated the cause. Instead, he simply met the mage's gaze, and smirked.

"Oh, a little plan in your Einherjar eyes, I see. And now confusion!, Splendid, heh heh..." Nergal jeered. Roy was indeed taken off guard. What did Nergal know of the Einherjar? Wasn't he under the illusion he was still alive? And... by the gods, Roy had forgotten about Marth! Where was he? What had happened?

"About your friend... apparently they left him back there. He was damaged, useless. No memory wipe could repair him. So he is stuck in the care of a stupid old goat!"

"Hnnngh..." Roy struggled with his vocal chords. He was really angry now. Marth was damaged? He had internal conflicts, yes, but... could his card have broken down, so he had to stay forever in the Outrealms now? Roy turned red at these thoughts. Maybe it was a mercy for Marth, but that son of a harpy had left behind so many friends to grieve him... Roy wouldn't stand for it, not ever seeing his face again. He was a better friend this way, he thought, and would set out to get him. Only, it would be hard to find him...

"So, this is where you sleep. Dinky little tents... oh, and more blinded fools, long dead and still walking the earth! Like Florina, there... I knew of her, the vile little bitch-"

Roy punched the mage in his stomach. Nergal bent over slightly, and hissed at the young Marquess.

"I won't call for help... and disrupt my chances." He groaned, getting up to his full stature. "But I can see why you'd protect them. Your pretty allies... though I may have to drop my charade anyway now. So inconvenient..." He sighed deeply.

"What is... EEEEEEEK! NERGAL!" Florina yelled, pointing in fright. "Nergal's in camp! Chrom! F-Frederick! Eirika!"

"What is going on? Slow down, Florina." Eirika said, having appeared from their shared tent. "Who are you?" She asked Nergal, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Ah... I am, how to say, your... _doom_. It awaits you in the palm of my hand. How gracious of you to not ride your Pegasus now, Florina... it gives you an easier risk to die... ERESHKIGAL!" He yelled, launching an orb of concentrated darkness with a tome he whipped out.

Eirika tossed Florina and herself aside, flying through the air from the explosion and landing hard against a bench. "I never was subtle in person... only when pulling the strings from a distance." The Dark mage said under his breath, amused.

"EIRIKA!" Roy's voice came back, and he immediately turned on his heels instinctively, completely against his true will, seeing that he was no match for this fiend alone. "Damn you, cowardly legs!" If he had the chance, he would stomp the mage's face in for Eirika's sake. Nergal stepped after him slowly, drawing force from the air around him.

"In life, I was great... and failed. In death, I yet linger, and my power is unknown to this fool world. It will be mine, and... the Outrealm gates! Far better is he who possesses godhood across dimensions, than over a single planet!" He laughed, tossing dark orbs around at random, enjoying the chaos.

"What the crap is going on?!" Gaius said loudly, about to eat a piece of peanut brittle near the mess table. Roy ran past him, screaming to regroup. The thief went bleak, dropping the snack when he saw the mage standing behind him, emitting a dark aura.

"You... you remind me of that weasel Matthew, of Ostia... he was quicker, though." Nergal said, and whispered the name of his devastating spell, hand almost on Gaius's chest. The thief came to his senses, and barely snuck away, planting a dagger in the mage's leg before yelling for Roy to wait up.

"Gods, what was that explosion? The Risen? Plegians?" Chrom said, drawing his sword quickly at the command tent's entrance, Frederick beside him.

"Milord, I think our new arrival wasn't so much a hero in life... as a villain." Frederick said, unrelentingly certain.

"...Damn Hubba. His shenanigans have made us lose a dear friend, and gain a foe..."

Just then Nergal emerged, blasting apart a set of tents in his path, facing the two commanders. He gruntingly dislodged the dagger from his leg, and seemingly absorbed it into his robe.

"Heh heh... forgive the little mess... I must be quite unreasonable in your eyes. Such a wretched face, sir Chrom... maybe eternal slumber will relax your muscles?" He said threateningly, raising a glowing sphere of purple above his head.

"Ugh... before we battle... I must know what is wrong with you. You aren't working like you should." Chrom said, sweating slightly. "Are you aware, like Marth was? That you're a memory?"

"Yes. But I intend to be more. I am still Nergal, and my seal was never made. While I yet had a sliver of life in me, alone and bleeding before the Dragon's Gate, a wicked relative of Hubba saved my soul, copying it onto this card. All my powers are intact, and amplified by this spirit existence. I have waited for these times... seeing the signs... listening to the old fool babble in his sleep while I was in his pocket. As a fortune-teller, he sleep-talked of the future. The coming of the Risen is just the first step. As is the war with Plegia. More will come soon... and I may just help it along."

"You didn't influence any of that?" Chrom asked. He also thought of what could happen if the Fire Emblem, currently in his possession, was found. It did not radiate much power in these days, since some of the crucial gemstones were missing, and Chrom only possessed one, Argent. Nergal seemed to not care about the existence of the artifact, focusing on using his own, already immense powers to fulfill the dark goals he held in mind.

"Of course not! If I wasn't fully active, how could I? I have you to "thank" for releasing me, though... Enough chatting. You will all see as the deities in this world face a new player on the field. Nergal, Dark Druid... the Master of Death!" He spoke out, and tossed the orb at the two warriors.

"MILORD!" Frederick yelled, tossing himself in front of Chrom. They both flew backwards to the ground, caught in an engulfing explosion of dark force.

"That deals with them... now, with their escaping life essence I open gateways, to summon forth my servants. Hubba, the dope, should never have spoken aloud of how to open these! Heh..."

Nergal waved a hand, speaking ancient verses, and opened portals to the Outrealms on the ground. Some of his dead allies came out as Einherjar, ready to serve, along with many hollow card spirit soldiers, printed with only basic features, but decent skills. The few in camp not taken completely off guard were quick to stand by Roy. Mostly because he was in a central part of it. Gaius had followed, and Stahl. Miriel stood ready with her fire spells, and Cordelia was flying alongside Sumia, throwing down javelins at the Dark mage. He only swatted them aside on impact, ordering his archers to fire at their Pegasi. The arrows were barely dodged, and they both set down with their other friends, slowly encircled. The little company of warriors broke lances, shattered shields and dodged spells, until the attack stopped.

"Neyahh hah hah! Such pitiful resistance... your friends are alive, don't cry little tears yet! Well, except for Chrom and his left-hand man..." Nergal smirked as he approached the tiny resistance group, signaling an easily breakable ceasefire to his men.

"NO! Chrom!" Cordelia shrieked. She was known to care for him deeply.

"Captain Chrom..." Sumia said silently, enraged.

"Guess I'm the _only_ one who grieves for Frederick..." Roy said with a tired expression. Everyone around him found that very insensitive, but inessential at this critical moment.

"Dark mage... I have some bittersweet news. You're going down... somehow." Gaius said, looking deadly. "Now you see me... now you don't."

In a flash Gaius had disappeared, moving in a blur such as only a skilled thief and assassin could, and drawn his blade. Nergal looked almost bored during the attack. Gaius swiped once with his sword across Nergal's chest, and landed behind him. His blow had been fatal... to someone.

"Let's see your magic work on that. There are no healers around." Gaius said, adjusting his trademark toothpick and facing the warlock from behind.

"I do not need healing... you do." Nergal said quietly.

"Huh? That s'posed to be a joke? I don't see a punchli...! HAGH!"

Gaius's chest was bleeding out heavily, and he went down, looking Roy in the eyes for what seemed like an eternity, before hitting the ground. "F... fudge it all."

Those left standing could not believe it. In war it was natural to lose comrades... though it still hurt like hell.

"GAIUUUS!" Sumia shouted in terror.

"Pitiful. Though not even Jaffar would have fared much better... hm... he cut my robe." Nergal remarked casually, but quaked a bit. "Reflection magic is still an unstable concept, like Hubba said during his experiments... yet another snippet of info he foolishly provided, thinking no one heard. Though I cannot use it many times yet. Ugh, that smarts, despite my power... Would you like to risk your lives too? Stand down as prisoners, or die like mongrels!"

"I'm fine with being a mongrel." Ike's voice said from somewhere nearby. He jumped down from a tree branch above Nergal, hitting the hilt end of his Silver sword into the mage's skull, causing a cracking noise. Nergal reeled, but regained his balance unnaturally quickly. The merc ran over to the group of his friends, glowing a burning blue. He'd learned of the spirit surge through Chrom's briefing as well, and was waiting for the right moment to release it. "You dare to hurt my allies? Hope you don't mind me cutting those hands of yours off, mage..."

Roy's eyebrows twitched with rage. This... Nergal's act was unforgivable. But with so many foes, he couldn't hope to win. Instead, he lowered his sword.

The impulsiveness in his mind ceased, and his former life came to him clearly. For his friends' sake, he would use his past self's intelligence to its limits. Roy of Pherae would act the fool no longer.

"Stand down. We've lost."

"Huh?! We can't just..." Ike said, gazing around carefully at the blank stares of the basic-printed Einherjar Nergal summoned.

"But, Roy..." Miriel said, calculating their odds quickly. She honestly didn't care about them, though. She was infuriated.

"We will need to live on. Even at the mercy of this beast. Until a solution presents itself... soon. Maybe right now."

He turned around, and smiled at his comrades. A plotting, compassionate smile they had never seen before. "I'm not abandoning you. I will be back... and with a friend. This'll be a chancey business, but... Ike, you and me! Let's go!"

Nergal barely shouted out his orders before Roy had drawn his blade again, slashing down a summoned soldier in his path and diving into an enemy Outrealm portal. Ike followed suit, but stopped for a second. He saw a uncomfortably familiar face among the tents, clad in revealing sorceress clothing.

"IKE! What are you doing in this chaos?! I bet you're involved somehow!" Micaiah yelled, walking up to him straight through the crowd of plain soldiers, tossing them aside with Arcwind spells. She did know Light magic as well, but Ylisse had a shocking lack of such tomes, which meant adaptation was a good idea...

Ike, in turn, bowled right through the blocking Einherjar soldiers with a broad, spinning slash straight after Roy, just wanting to escape HER. She was soon captured, though.

"Hey, let me go! Stupid faceless spirit things!" Micaiah said, struggling against her captors. She was forced to sit with the other recently captured troops. No ropes would be needed, simply because of the great number of available troops Nergal had to watch them. "Darn... Ike... was it something I said? I don't think I treated him so bad he'd just bolt on sight. That jerk... still, I hope they know what to do..."

"Duuurgh! Like father, like son, huh?! First Eliwood, and now his offspring! Hunt them down! These other twits will be completely rounded up, and interrogated on what they know of this world. I don't even know it's name for now. That won't get us far, now will it?" Nergal directed at his commanders, picking one to stalk the two young warriors until the right time to strike. A force of Wyvern riders and Cavaliers was dispatched into the vortexes. The chosen commander, someone who moved like a swift sword swing, followed them in. "Gather them up, then, you slow-minded goons! Including the thief's corpse!"

They all looked at the crumpled heap that was Gaius. He was unceremoniously tossed together with his friends. Lissa, having been gathered with the rest, was shocked, running over to check the man's blood pressure. To great relief, he was fortunately alive. Her staff was at the ready, but the outcome would be uncertain. He'd lost a quarter of his blood already. The two chief healers of the army brought out some bandages, telling him to hang in there.

"Roy, Ike... no matter what he'll be able to do, bring him back. Please try." Sumia said, thinking of Marth intensely. "Brave Hero-King... those bedtime stories better be right this time."

Author Note:

You thought I was gonna bring Canas into the story, eh? Well... it was a fifty-fifty chance of the card being him.

And because of Hubba's age-related lapses in judgment, they're now all in danger. Isn't that old ditz just the friggin' BEST?!

Roy also breaks my personal interpretation of his character, becoming more like the original, clever Lord. That's a good thing, switching between how he once was and how he is now, when needed. I get his character and story a bit better now, since I started playing the translated patch for The Binding Blade. The RNG there has no mercy! D:

Deciding on an antagonist felt... strangely straightforward. I just thought Nergal would fit in as the main villain, however late he was introduced. It's also kind of hard to make him go OOC, I think. He's an obsessed nutter nearly to begin with, after all... unless you count his backstory. Also, his spell's visual effect is described as an orb because he concentrates the blasts this time. I've seen Ereshkigal usually is much flashier... Oh, and I call him a Dark mage, dread magician, Dark Druid and whatnot to vary the description of the same character (those all fit him, and just writing his name would get stale).

As for not going for the Fire Emblem... Nergal didn't go to great length to use the Seal of Bern in FE 7, so I figured the Emblem holds little interest to him, no matter what form it takes. Besides, at this point in the actual game it doesn't have its full power. His strange reasoning will just have to apply, okay?


End file.
